


Free the Animal

by captivation



Category: Mad Max Series (Movies), Mad Max: Fury Road
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, And cheedo is older than in the movie even though no one's sure of her age, F/M, There's a dog eventually
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-07
Updated: 2015-07-22
Packaged: 2018-04-08 04:49:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 23,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4291383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captivation/pseuds/captivation
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Max brought her only happiness. With his small smile and kind eyes, tough hands and rare laugh. She loved him like she’d never loved anyone. It felt too big to hold in just her body, but she supposed she had Max to help."</p><p>Set in garages, a grimy bar, a house, and an apartment, Cheedo and her sisters learn to live after Joe. With the help of Max, the cop who fired the shot that killed him, and Furiosa, the woman who got them out, they find hobbies, love, and adventures.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Sight

**Author's Note:**

> THIS IS MY FIRST PIECE OF FANFICTION IN 2 YEARS, AT LEAST. I'm very excited to be writing again, and haven't quite thought this through, so any ideas or places you want this to go, feel free to comment. The title has nothing to do with anything, other than it's a song I like at the moment and I've always struggled with titles. The rating will definitely go up in later chapters, and relationships may be added. It's good to be back and I hope you enjoy!!

Cheedo had no hope for this night. The Dag and Capable had convinced her and Toast that they needed a girl’s night, just them, in some crowded bar with loud music and cheap beer. She refused to wear anything other than her favorite denim shorts and a clean white tank top that made her look extra tan. She liked how broad her shoulders appeared.

The bar was exactly what she pictured. Loud, dirty, and full of men who would watch their every move. Her sisters automatically surrounded her as they walked in. This was their usual formation: Toast in the front, her confidence and spunk making up for her height. Capable and the Dag on either side of Cheedo, even though she was taller than Capable. They said it was something about her eyes that made her look young and innocent. She hated it. She was not innocent.

Now she didn’t mind it. She felt safe around her sisters, and the beer they handed her didn’t actually taste that bad. They found a tall round table off to the side and started looking around, commenting on an extra creepy guy or another girl’s outfit. Cheedo looked at the grease under her nails and in the creases of her palms.

She loved how it looked, and how it reminded her of Furiosa’s. She’d latched onto Furiosa pretty hard after they were rescued, equally because she had been the one to tip off the police and lead to their rescue, and because Cheedo, the youngest of the four, desperately wanted a mother, for the first time in her life. No one had ever made her feel as small as Joe, like a porcelain doll, and all she wanted was to feel big.

The first time she’d wandered into Furiosa’s shop, desperate for something to do while her sisters dove into their own hobbies, she’d ended up cleaning car parts next to where Furiosa was working and handing her the occasional tool. It was mindless and required no skill, but Cheedo liked how heavy and solid the parts felt in her hands.

Furiosa told her to come back the next day, early, before the shop opened, if she wanted to learn what the parts did. And Cheedo never stopped going.

So while Capable cooked and Dag planted and Toast learned how to protect them, she learned how it felt to press something into place and then feel the engine roar to life because of something she did. She learned how the smell of grease and oil never really left, and that she liked it. She learned a bit about Furiosa and how she’d gotten to know Joe, and why she’d told the police where they were. Neither of them liked to talk that much, but Furiosa liked to teach and Cheedo was desperate to learn something.

One of the girls pointed out the jukebox in the corner of the room. It was currently playing something horrible that Cheedo didn’t recognize, but it gave her an idea. She’d always imagined dancing to one song in a bar like this, and she had to know if it had it. Grabbing some quarters, she fought her way over, flipped through the pages of songs until she found Aerosmith, and there it was.

She refused to tell the other girls what song she’d chosen, just watched the people dancing in the middle of the room while waiting for her selection to start.

The opening guitar riff started and filled her chest with the familiar fullness this song always brought. She didn’t know why she loved it so much, or why she’d always wanted to dance to it in a bar like this. She made her way to the other dancers and felt the Dag follow her, then just closed her eyes and started dancing.

It didn’t matter that people could see her, that there were strange men watching her. She was here, with her sisters, celebrating their new free lives. She didn’t exist for men to look at. She was here for herself, and that was it. She wanted to dance, so she was.

Predictably, the Dag was a strange dancer. Cheedo just moved calmly with the music, not worrying about what she looked like or if people thought the Dag was weird.

Something made her open her eyes and look towards one group of men at the bar. They were facing away from her, all but one. She knew him right away. Officer Max Rockatansky, the one who had fired the shot that killed Joe. The one who had looked right into her eyes as her sisters held her and nodded, proud of her actions that had probably saved many lives.

Cheedo looked into his eyes now and couldn’t look away. She never thought she’d see him again, even after going to the station to ask his name. Her sisters never mentioned him, just thanked every day that Joe was dead. His nod was always at the back of her mind.

**

Max recognized them immediately. The four girls—red hair, blonde hair, short brown hair, long brown hair—who he knew from both the news and work. He had been part of the group of officers who finally found them, five months after being kidnapped and held on the top floor of a privately owned corporate building. They were princesses in the tower of an ugly old man, Joe, who was killed during the rescue.

He was surprised to see them in this bar, a few weeks later. He didn’t even know why he was in this bar. He didn’t drink much but his coworkers had invited him and something made him say yes. Probably the cool night air in the parking lot outside of the station.

Now here he was, turned away from the boisterous cops he had come with, watching the girls. Everyone was watching them, except the few old men too drunk to look up from the bar. Max knew the type of guys who frequented this bar; dirty, bored, quick to inappropriately touch a passing girl or call out to one after drinking too much. He knew what they were thinking as they watched the long brown haired girl and the blonde dance to Aerosmith.

He tried to match the girls with the ones he had found in that building. They didn’t look very different, except for the casual clothes in place of the strange white wraps Joe had kept them in, but they radiated such a fine energy, one of strength and free will.

The long brown haired one surprised him the most. She looked to be the youngest and weakest, but in the end it had been her that tricked Joe. The rescue had come to a standoff, Joe pointing a gun in each hand at the officers, guns also drawn. He had looked manic, with his white hair flying around his wrinkled face, and desperate, when the girl had called out to him, asking him to take her back. She only had to break a few feet away from the other women for Joe to falter, dropping his guns a few inches and turning towards her. Max had fired a quick shot into Joe’s knee and yelled for him to drop his weapons. He had said it, but he knew Joe was never going to surrender, and had the head shot lined up before Joe had the chance to fire the gun he was now pointing at Max.

The girl jumped back to the others—the sisters, they called themselves on the news—and they clung together, a mess of hands and arms and hair and thin white cloth.

Now, that girl was dancing as if no man had ever laid eyes on her before. She was beautiful, in the way she looked, the way she moved, the way she existed in this space.

She looked over to Max then, but didn’t seem surprised that he was watching her. She just held his gaze and moved smoothly to the song. Her eyes flicked to something to Max’s right, and then there were two more of them in front of him.

“Are you some kind of pervert cop?” the one with short brown hair and dark skin said to him. Max grunted and looked away.

“Toast, please, he’s just surprised to see us, I bet,” the red haired one said.

Toast—he started to remember their names, all strange—crossed her arms and glared at him skeptically. “Why only stare at Cheedo?”

He said nothing, did nothing, just held her gaze.

“You were the one that did it, that shot him,” Toast said, her voice softer as she remembered him. Max nodded. The song had ended and Cheedo and the blonde, the Dag, he thought, were headed back to their now empty table, watching this exchange.

“Will you come over for a bit? Talk to us?” Toast glared at the red head.

“Capable. This was not the plan.”

“Come on, I’m sure the others would love to meet him, for real this time.” Max hesitated. “Please? Just a few minutes.” He could see the other two looking over, curious, and in the end it was Cheedo’s big brown eyes that made him pick up his beer, lift one finger to the group sitting behind him, probably watching in amazement, and follow the two across the bar. “What’s your name?” Capable asked, glancing back.

He felt the usual pause before he would usually say his title, Officer Rockatansky, and then simply said “Max.”

“Max, this is Cheedo and the Dag, I’m Capable, and that’s Toast. Guys, this is the cop who shot Joe!” She spoke it so casually and Max wondered how often they talked about Joe and what had happened to them.

The Dag smiled. “Oh, thanks a lot! Old bastard deserved it.”

Cheedo just looked at him as if she knew his every thought.

“Do you want to know what we’ve been up to since?” Capable asked. Toast shot her a look that said “do you always have to be this engaging?”

Max nodded. “Sure.”

“We’ve got an apartment together, just outside of town, with a room for each of us! We keep the doors open all the time, and I’m learning how to cook. Dag has a bunch of potted plants along a giant window, and every day they get bigger. Toast, tell him where you’ve been going. It’s so cool.” Capable’s enthusiasm for their new life was infectious. Max couldn’t help smiling a tiny bit.

“Shooting range,” Toast said. Still wary of him. “I should have my first gun within the week.” This interested Max.

“What kind?”

“G42.”

“Good. Good to know how to protect yourself.” She looked surprised that he had finally spoken more than one word, and content with his answer. He looked to Cheedo. “What about you?”

“Helping Furiosa down at the garage. And I’ve been writing a lot.” Max could picture her with a pen in her hand, but a wrench? Or under one of the big rigs Furiosa repaired? A bit harder, but he liked the idea.

The girls seemed to age as he was talking to them; in Joe’s grasp, they seemed like they were barely out of their teens, Cheedo maybe still 17 or 18. But out here, in this bar, they were real people, adults. The Dag and Toast could have been 27, Capable and Cheedo, 24. Young women with so much weight on their backs.

“Would you come over for dinner some night this week, Max?” This got Capable another look from Toast, but the Dag seconded the offer. “Come on, Toast, he killed Joe. He deserves a home-cooked meal and a medal.”

Toast nodded and so did Max. “Alright,” he said, still looking at Cheedo. Why couldn’t he take his eyes off of her?

Capable pulled a scrap of paper out of her bag and scribbled on it. “Great! Does Thursday work? Here’s our address and our phone number, just in case. 7 o’clock?”  

Max nodded, picked up his beer, and waved with a few fingers. He didn’t stay much longer, because he couldn’t stop catching Cheedo’s eyes when he glanced up. He felt tight inside, like he wanted to shoot Joe all over again.


	2. Crush

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Max finds Cheedo at the shop "by accident," and the dinner party flourishes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know where any of this is coming from and I'm thrilled.

His plan was not to see Cheedo when he went to Furiosa’s shop the next day. He had no idea whether or not she would be there. Her eyes had stuck in his mind, sure, but he was not about to embarrass himself in front of someone like Furiosa, a tough-as-nails, sometimes under-cover mechanic, with a soft spot for disenfranchised women. Her only other steady employee, a woman her own age named Valkyrie, came from her childhood town after losing her family. Furiosa had taken her in, no questions asked.

The more Max thought about Cheedo spending time there, the more sense it made. Furiosa had been working with the police to find some information about Joe’s business when she had discovered the women he was keeping in that building and nearly broke her cover to tell Max. The intention of her work had not been for Joe to end up dead, but it was a service to many people.

His business with Furiosa that day was trivial and probably could have been done over email, but he hadn’t seen her in a while and wanted to tell her about seeing the sisters the night before. They were good friends, even went on a date once, but there was always something missing between the two of them, romantically. They were better as friends and colleagues.

He walked through the open garage door and saw her thick boots sticking out from under a truck, with a smaller pair next to her. He knew they weren’t Valkyrie’s, which meant one thing.

They were talking under there, mostly Furiosa explaining something and Cheedo confirming or asking a quick question. Their voices weaved together, and Max almost sat down to listen forever. Suddenly he felt like he was intruding, cleared his throat, said Furiosa’s name.

The two women slid out in unison and he realized they were on the same creeper. “Max,” Furiosa said in surprise. Cheedo smiled. She had a black smudge on her forehead, and, as she sat up, Max could see her hair braided in a crown all the way around her head, wisps escaping around her forehead and ears, and stuck in the sweat at the back of her neck. She was beautiful, still, hours later. “Have you met Cheedo, formally?”

“Actually, yes. The sisters and I met Max at MFP’s last night,” Cheedo interrupted.

“You went to MFP’s?” Furiosa’s voice was tinged with worry and surprise.

“We were fine, it was fun, and we met Max.”

“They were safe,” Max said without thinking, as if he had been the one keeping them safe. As if he hadn’t left before them because he could feel Cheedo’s eyes on him. The thought occurred to him that he _would_ keep them safe, would kill again for them.

“Max is coming over for dinner on Thursday. You should come too, Furiosa,” Cheedo said as she stood and wiped her hands on a rag, then tossed it to Furiosa.

“Alright, I suppose I could, thanks. Did you need something, Max, or just stop by for a chat?”

He held up the large envelope and she took it without him needing to explain. After pulling the paper out and skimming it quickly, she excused herself to fill out the form in her office. As she was passing Max she spoke to him under her breath:

“Be careful with her, please.”

It wasn’t a warning, it was advice. She wasn’t the kind of woman to threaten men away from the sisters, unless they were dangerous, but instead thought about the women themselves, and what she thought they wanted.

Max couldn’t believe that Furiosa sensed something between Max and Cheedo. He couldn’t believe she would encourage this. But she was gone, into her office, and Cheedo was just there, smiling at him. This was not his intention.

“Do you have any food allergies? We should have asked last night.”

“No.”

“Good, Capable’s very excited. She even invited Nux. You know him, right?”

He did. Nux was a strange boy who used to work with Joe, but had gotten out of that circle and was now training to be a cop. He had been at the station the day the girls were rescued, and him and Capable had bonded permanently, as Cheedo would tell him.

“They’re adorable, Nux is really good for her. Shared enemy, and all that.”

Max was already in love with how much more she talked without her sisters around. She was leaning against the work bench and Max found himself picking up a clean-ish rag and bringing it to her forehead. He paused and she nodded, then he carefully wiped the grease from her skin. She smiled at him again. Those smiles would be the end of him.

He hadn’t felt like this in years. Many, many years. He dared to draw the connection between his feelings for Cheedo and his feelings for Jessie, and then his heart wrenched, as if it was moving in one direction while his body was going another. He was immediately disgusted with himself for comparing this infatuation to Jessie, the woman he had loved and married and had a child with, and then lost, seemingly every day for the last 20 years.

He frowned and backed away from Cheedo as her face fell and Furiosa emerged. Her words rang in his ears: Be careful with her. And he had already hurt her.

“I’ll see you both Thursday. Looking forward to it.” Envelope tucked under his arm, he retreated, head down. He missed Jessie with everything in him, and Cheedo’s smile.

**

After Max had left the garage, Furiosa turned to her.

“What did he say to you?”

“Nothing.”

“I’m not stupid, Cheedo.”

“It’s just a crush. It’s nothing.” She tried to slide back under the car but Furiosa’s boot stopped her.

“Max is a good man, but a damaged man. He’s not good at reciprocating.”

“Okay. What does that have to do with me?” Cheedo did not want to have this discussion. Not with Furiosa, not when she could still see Max backing away from her.

“I’m not stupid, Cheedo,” she repeated. “I’ve known Max a very long time. I know how to read him, through the grunts and nods. He feels something for you.”

“What do I do, Furiosa?” She felt small again. She didn’t want to feel small.

“Give him time. Don’t overwhelm him. Let him come to you. I think you need the space too. Don’t try to forget where you were a month ago. You can’t get rid of it, just like Max can’t get rid of his past.” Cheedo looked at Furiosa crouched next to her.

“Isn’t he too old for me? Aren’t we both too messed up?”

“Excuses. Don’t make excuses, Cheedo. Figure out what you want and find a way to get it. I’ll help you, your sisters will help you. You have a family now.”

Furiosa was the only one who knew about Cheedo’s past. She hadn’t even told her sisters yet, just gave vague answers, implying they had died. Truthfully, she’d been alone her entire life, going from foster home to orphanage to homeless shelter, never finding a place to settle. This past month, living with the sisters in the apartment with the money awarded to each of them from Joe’s estate, had been the greatest month of her life. She had a room and friends that were also family and a passion to learn from Furiosa, and now this grumbling man who wasn’t afraid to make eye contact with her.

“Thank you, Furiosa. Please come on Thursday. You can give Nux ‘the talk,’ scare him a bit.” Furiosa laughed and nodded, then slid them back under the rig.

**

Max embarrassingly struggled with what to wear to dinner on Thursday, before shaking his head and putting on his newest t shirt and a black button up. He didn’t even let himself consider changing his jeans.

He stopped and bought a bottle of wine, and then felt weird about it, so he bought a small pot of African violets, delicate pink flowers and soft green leaves that somehow reminded him of every sister at once.

Before getting out of his car, he told himself not to think about Jessie, to just have a good time, then threw that out the window. She was in everything he did, her and the Sprog. He wished he could talk to Furiosa, alone. He was a mess, and couldn’t stop seeing the look on Cheedo’s face when he had pulled away. Furiosa always knew how to talk sense into him.

Instead of stalling more, Max got out of the car, grabbed the flowers and the wine, and walked to their door. They had the entire ground floor of a building full of loft-like spaces, so anyone else had to walk by their door to get to the staircase, which made Max nervous. He made a note to check their locks when no one was paying attention.

He had only knocked once when the door opened, the Dag’s smiling face behind it. “Max, welcome,” she said and gave him room to pass. He handed her the little tin with the violets, since she was the one with the green thumb. “Oh, tiny green things! Thank you!” She danced over to a gigantic window that faced the road with sheer white curtains and about 30 plants in pots or window boxes. The windows were open and blew the earthy scent of the plants throughout the whole room, being taken over only by whatever Capable was cooking. Which smelled amazing. Max wondered when the last time was that he had been drawn somewhere by the smell of food alone.

The kitchen was just around the corner. Cheedo was just around the corner. The sisters and Nux were laughing around the island counter, and welcomed Max over with greetings and arm touches. Max saw an empty bottle of wine on the counter and noticed each of them had an empty glass with a small red pool at the bottom. Their smiles were contagious.

Toast took the bottle of wine when Max held it up. “Thank God, more wine. We got the party started kind of early.”

“I can tell,” Max said, smiling.

“Maybe you can keep us in line, Officer,” the Dag added, joining the group and dusting brown dirt from her fingers.

“Didn’t bring my gun,” he said in a low, teasing voice, and quickly realized how stupid of a thing to say it was, referencing the gun he had used to kill Joe, the man who had held them as his prisoners for five months. Not the most tasteful joke at a dinner party. The girls looked stunned for a second before Toast burst into uproarious laughter and the others followed. Max didn’t think anyone had ever laughed at anything he’d said, ever. He was never a funny guy.

He let himself look to Cheedo. She was laughing behind her hand, and her eyes were shining, looking right at Max. He lifted one corner of his mouth and bowed his head in a silent apology for the other day at the garage, and she nodded, accepting it.

Laughter became the soundtrack of the night. Furiosa arrived, saw the flushed sisters, grinning Nux, and Max all relaxing around the kitchen and looked shocked. She too carried a bottle of wine and a bouquet of wildflowers in a clear, square vase. 

The Dag bounded forward. “Furiosa! More green things! These are stunning.”

“They’re from a friend of Valkyrie, she grows them herself.” Space was made on the large dining table and the food was moved over, someone turned the music down, and Max found himself sitting with Toast on one side, and Cheedo on his other. She smiled at him warmly. Capable, the Dag, and Nux sat across from them, with Furiosa at the head of the table, the surrogate mother to the spontaneous sisters.

The food was legendary. Capable deflected and then accepted compliments all night, jokingly giving Nux credit, though Max imagined the boy had probably been the opposite of helpful. Distracting, rather. They were a cute couple, always bumping their shoulders together while eating or just resting a hand on a forearm or thigh while sitting in the living room.   

Max ate what felt like enough for 3 grown men and felt happy, letting the love of these people fill him up. They were a special group, so quick to welcome him in, just because he had done his job and rid the world of a disgusting man. They even got him to tell his best work story, about the meth addict he had caught trying to sell $20 bills on the street, complete with foot chase and fence scaling. It was a time dangerously close to losing Jessie and blowing out his knee, but he didn’t let his mind stray, just focused on the attention of these good people.

Eventually they moved into the living room and someone pulled out a basket full of slips of paper.

“Really? It’s 2015, there are better games than charades,” Toast whined.

“Come on, charades is a classic. It’s impossible not to have fun while playing charades,” Nux said. More wine was opened and distributed, and Max ended up with Cheedo on a love seat. The look on Furiosa’s face told him it wasn’t an accident. Teams were set, and Capable was up first. Her teammates, Nux and Toast, sat forward as she read her clue, and made the typical “this is impossible” face. She held up one finger.

“One word,” Toast said and Capable confirmed with a nod, then drew a tower in the air with her hands.

“Tower.”

“Building.”

“Castle. Turret. Column.”

Each guess got a head shake from Capable as she struggled to come up with something else to mime.

“Citadel!” Nux called and Capable burst out laughing.

“Yes!” He stood and scooped her up, kissing her like he hadn’t seen her in months. Toast looked amazed that Nux had guessed that, and surprisingly not annoyed by the PDA in front of her.

“What kind of clue is citadel? Aren’t they supposed to be movies or books?” Furiosa asked.

“Who cares?” Cheedo said softly. Furiosa shrugged and nodded, then pulled a clue from the basket. She looked at Max and nodded, sure of herself. She held up one finger.

“One word,” the Dag said. Furiosa held one hand by her ear and rotated the other in a circle next to it. “Movie.” She nodded and then began reenacting an elaborate scene that left the girls stumped, but Max immediately recognized.

“Waterworld.”

“Yes!” Furiosa high fived him and sat back down.

“What’s Waterworld?” Capable asked.

“A post-apocalyptic movie from the 90’s. I guess you guys are too young,” Furiosa explained and smiled at Max.

“Who even wrote that clue?” Toast asked no one in particular, incredulous.

**

Cheedo was so full of food and laughter she thought she was going to explode. The game of charades had ended in an unbreakable tie. Both teams turned out to be great, with the freaky connection between Nux and Capable, or the different age perspectives from Max and Furiosa. After three tie breaker rounds that yielded no results, the sisters declared the game an official tie and Capable sent Cheedo to the kitchen for desert. On her way, she could hear Capable send Max after her, as a supposedly spontaneous thought.

She felt nervousness in her stomach, worried all this was too much for Max. He seemed happy during dinner and charades, actually a bit relaxed, but her sisters kept sitting them next to each other, or pushing them together, and it felt like too much. Furiosa had told her to wait for him to come to her, and she would, but not if her sisters pushed him away first.

Max came up behind her as she pulled two pies from the fridge, holding the door open for her. “Thank you.”

Max stood in front of her, looking uncomfortable, and Cheedo could sense her fears coming true.

“I’m sorry about them. They’re excited and being presumptuous and I’m sorry if you’re uncomfortable.” She couldn’t stop all these words from spilling out of her. “I shouldn’t have even told them my feelings, it’s just a crush, and I should have known they would have made a big deal out of it. Just, they’re all adjusting so well after Joe and I still can’t even believe I have a family. They want me to be happy and don’t really understand subtlety. I’m sorry, again.”

Cheedo finally shut her mouth and looked at Max, terrified. She saw the way Max was looking at her and didn’t feel small.

He was smiling, in awe. She could barely remember what she’d said.

“A crush?” Max asked.

Cheedo flushed and looked down. “Yes,” she mumbled.

Max took a step back. “Haven’t had a crush in a long time. Don’t think anyone’s ever had a crush on me.”

“I’m sure that’s not true,” Cheedo said. “Do you have a crush on me?” Asking it took all of her breath, but she wanted the answer.

“Think I’m too old for crushes.”

She almost dropped the pies in her hands.

He seemed to realize his mistake. “I do like you. I do.” Cheedo smiled at him for a moment, and then gestured to the plates, napkins, and forks behind him.

“Would you grab those?” she asked, unable to keep the happiness out of her voice.

He followed.

**

Furiosa left just before Max. Without her, he felt old, much older than the sisters. They made him promise to come again, same time next week, declaring Thursday night dinners a tradition. Toast, the Dag, and Capable hugged him quickly and warmly, then disappeared into the kitchen, Nux trailing after them, waving a hand in goodbye. Cheedo kissed his cheek, then touched the skin there, seeming unsure.

“Haven’t touched anyone since Joe,” she whispered.

“I’m too old for you,” Max grumbled back.

Their doubts hung in the air between them.

This time, Max kissed her cheek. “Would you like to get breakfast Saturday?” Breakfast was safe. No harm in breakfast. And he had all tomorrow to figure out what the hell he was doing.

“I would love to,” Cheedo replied. They just looked at each other for a few seconds, and Max thought she might burst out of her smile. He wished he could smile like that, envious of how she could show her joy. “Thanks again for coming,” she said as she opened the door for him.

“Saturday, 9 okay?” She nodded and he watched her until she closed the door. Max got in his car and told himself to drive, go home and get some sleep, remember what he had lost, think about what he could have.


	3. Joy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The breakfast date, and an old car.

Cheedo had to hold her sisters off Saturday morning. Capable was fussing over her hair, Toast wanted her to change into something “nicer,” the Dag just kept pushing leaves towards her. In the end, she grabbed whatever the leaf was, pushed them all out of her bedroom, and told them to leave her alone. She didn’t close her door. They didn’t close their bedroom doors.

She just wanted a few quiet moments to herself before Max picked her up. She wanted to push any expectations out of her head.

Remembering the leaf in her hand, Cheedo brought it to her nose and inhaled. It was mint, strong and fresh. Without thinking, she rubbed it on her wrists, the hollow between her collarbones, and the back of her neck. She had no expectations. None.

**

Max almost didn’t go. He stood in front of the mirror in his bathroom and wondered just what he thought he was doing. He was in his forties. Early forties, sure, but still. Cheedo was only, hell, he still didn’t know how old she was. He had to be at least 15 years older than her.

He was old. He’d already lived a life, lost a life. But hadn’t she? She’d lost months of her life to a monster of a man and wasn’t going to get them back.

Could he really do this? Date? Someone as beautiful and youthful and kind as Cheedo? He would be better off convincing himself he could love Furiosa as more than a friend.

This was a waste of time. He wasn’t going.

Then he thought of Cheedo’s face, how it would fall when she finally accepted he wasn’t going to show up, and that got him all the way there.

 

She looked beautiful, of course, in a white dress with short sleeves that stopped just above her knees. Her long hair was pinned to one side and she was wearing simple blue turquoise earrings. Max ran a hand over his hair subconsciously, thinking how he needed a buzz. He worried about his black v neck, and how they must look like a bride and groom, a ridiculous thought.

But she took his hand as they walked to his car, and her skin was so smooth that he didn’t worry about anything.

“You look beautiful,” he said before starting the car. She looked down.

“Thank you. I’ve never really been on a date before. Oh no, this is a date right? I’m a fool.”

Max would have chuckled if he wasn’t so nervous. Hands on the steering wheel, he nodded, started the car.

“I’m so nervous. If I say how nervous I am, will it make me less nervous?”

“Don’t think you’re more nervous than me.”

“You know what you’re doing, though. Furiosa said your date was nice. Oh, I should not have mentioned that.”

His date with Furiosa was nice, but barely a date. They’d gotten dinner and had a good time, then realized they didn’t even like each other. How could that count when he felt like his insides were going to liquefy if he didn’t get to spend the next 500 hours with Cheedo?

“That was easy because Furiosa and I didn’t like each other.” Cheedo smiled at that. He did like her. Fuck, he liked her. He wanted to say that out loud, wanted to hear himself say it. “Fuck, I like you.”

“I like you too, maybe just not to the point of profanity just yet,” she teased. They smiled at each other for a second, then he turned the keys and before the engine was quiet, his lips were on hers, and she was holding his shirt in her small fists. Max could feel those words—fuck, I like you—in this kiss. It broke him in two, two pieces that were both head over heels for this girl. He felt like a teenager again, kissing a girl in his car, but this was not Jessie, she was gone, Cheedo was not a replacement, but an addition.

They kissed over and over, their lips fitting together differently yet perfectly each time. Max held the back of her head and kissed down her neck, smelling something sweet. He breathed in deep.

“The Dag gave me mint leaves for some reason. I don’t know why I rubbed them there.” Max kissed that spot, then went back to her lips for a few more kisses. He felt dangerously like he could kiss Cheedo forever. “My sisters are probably watching us,” she said.

“They’ll kill me, kissing you before I even take you to breakfast.”

“Then we better get going.” She pulled him back for a few more kisses, then let him restart the car. Max glanced over at the loft, and there, in the front window, wedged around the Dag’s plants, were her three sisters, watching them. The Dag was smiling, Capable was shaking her fists above her head in triumph, and Toast was glaring, not angrily, just protectively. Cheedo pressed her palm against the window as they drove away.

 

Everyone stared in the restaurant, just like they had in the bar. Cheedo noticed. “Why are people staring? Is it the age difference?” Part of Max thought that was true, but really he knew people were staring at her and only her.

“No, they’re staring at you.”

“Why?”

“You’re the most beautiful woman in here.”

She just looked at him, joy pouring out of her. He could still smell the mint at the base of her throat.

A waiter came and took their order, then Cheedo sat her chin on her hands. “Tell me about yourself,” she said softly.

He didn’t know where to start, where it was safe to end. His childhood had been so normal, it seemed unimportant. Jessie was off limits, not the best first date talk.

“I like being a cop,” Max said finally.

“Why?”

“I like helping people like you, people stuck in bad places.”

“I’m not stuck anymore.”

“I know.”

“What made you become a cop?”

“I don’t know. Was just always the plan.”

“I’ve always wanted to know about cars. I don’t know why either.” She fiddled with the straw in her mason jar of water, embarrassed almost. Max didn’t know why he’d picked such a hip place. He preferred the sticky counter of a diner, but Cheedo looked perfect here.

“Furiosa is a good mechanic, and a good teacher.”

“She means a lot to me. I’m lucky to have her. I think she accidentally became my mom.”

“Did something happen to your mom?”

She dropped the straw on the table and then quickly picked it up, set it aside, and wiped the drops of water with her napkin.

“Both my parents died when I was really young, young enough to not remember either of them. I’ve been alone my whole life, in foster care or shelters. The sisters are my first family. I guess Joe gave me something good after all.”

“They care for you very much.”

“They baby me, but really I don’t mind. I’ve never been the baby before.”

A thought, a terrible thought, occurred to Max. Cheedo had never known a family. She’d already adopted Furiosa as her mother. Were her feelings for Max really just her want for a father? He didn’t dare bring it up while in the restaurant, but it sat heavily on his mind the entire time.

Cheedo ate the cutest yogurt parfait with granola and berries, never dropping a crumb, while Max did his best to look civilized while eating pancakes. He wondered if anyone in the restaurant thought she was his daughter.

“How old are you?” he asked as casually as he could.

“25, in two weeks.”

This gave Max two things to worry about: One, she was 15 years younger than he was. And two, what was he going to do for her birthday?

“Why? How old are you?”

“40.”

“Oh, that’s not bad.” Max looked up. “I was expecting you to be older.”

“I look older?”

“No! You’ve just had so much happen to you, you seem older. I don’t mind. I don’t feel much like a 25 year old nowadays.”

The things he’d had happen to him. He’d started a family and lost it. How much had that aged him?

“Did Furiosa tell you about me? Not mad.”

“No details or anything, just an outline. You don’t have to tell me.”

“I will, one day.” Max suddenly felt tired of talking. Luckily, they were done eating and the waiter was putting their check on the table. Cheedo stopped him before he put his wallet away. She put her finger over the picture he kept in the spot your driver’s license was supposed to go.

“Is that them?” she asked softly. He nodded, and couldn’t take his eyes off of the family he no longer had. “Come on, let’s go.” He let Cheedo lead him out to his car and even opened his door for him before getting in on her side. “Are you alright?” she asked when he didn’t start the car.

He was mortified, and positive he was going to cry. This would be it, the final reason she needed to find someone her own age, not a giant mess like him.

“I’m sorry, I’m a mess, you deserve better,” he said and rested his forehead on the steering wheel. Cheedo’s soft hand touched his shoulder.

“You’re not a mess. You lost your wife. That’s an unspeakable tragedy. But you have a good job, you help people. You helped me. You’re handsome, and kind, and make me smile just by existing. I think you’re doing just fine.”

Max looked over to her, not caring that a few tears had slipped out. She caught them with her fingers and then brought them to her lips, kissing the wetness with a smile. This made him feel unspeakably better.

“Can I show you something?” he asked, an idea forming.

“Of course.” He held her hand while he drove, the hand that had swept up his tears and kissed them away.

 

“This is your house?” Cheedo asked when they pulled into his driveway. Max nodded and hurried around the car to open her door, but she was already out and looking around. “It’s a nice neighborhood.”

“Quiet, I guess. Come on.” He took her hand again and led her to the side of the garage, through the door there. “One second,” he said into the darkness and hit the button to open the large door facing the road. Light crept in and Cheedo’s face lit up.

She circled the car. “What is this?”

“The Pursuit Special. V8 Interceptor. Cops used to use these. I picked it up at a police auction a few years ago and haven’t quite finished restoring it.” Cheedo looked at him hopefully. “Will you help me?”

She nodded enthusiastically. “I don’t know how much help I’ll be. Furiosa can only teach me so much so quickly. I might hold you back.”

“I don’t mind. As long as you’re happy.” She beckoned him towards her, leaned back against the car, and put her arms around his neck.

Max still had so many doubts. But none of them involved whether or not he wanted to kiss her right at that moment. So he did. He put his hands in her hair and on her shoulders and didn’t take his lips off hers for anything. She clawed at his back and pulled him closer, snuck her hands under his shirt and felt his warm skin.

There would be time for doubts later.

Right then, he just wanted to have her near him, hold her head with his thumbs along her jaw, and kiss her.

“When can we get started?” Cheedo breathed against his jaw. Max had forgotten where they were, wondered for a second what she meant, and his heart lurched when he drew the inappropriate, sexual conclusion. “On the car?” she finished.

“Oh.” He kissed along the line of her hair to the back of her neck and smelled it again, the mint. “Anytime. Can the Dag keep giving you these leaves?”

“You like it?”

Max pulled back and looked at her with her flushed lips and cheeks.

“I like it.” She held out her wrists to him, veins up. Confused but compliant, he lowered his face to them and breathed, and it was there. He groaned into her skin.

**

“I wish I could save this moment, frame it,” Cheedo whispered. Max turned his eyes up to hers, still inhaling the scent on her wrists. He looked young and sweet, questioning. “Joe said we were his treasures. I’d never been treasured. I wouldn’t mind having just that part back.” Max kissed up her right arm, skipping to her mouth. “You make me feel treasured,” Cheedo said in between kisses.

“I’ll cherish you, if you want.”

His voice, always low and gravelly, saying those words, made Cheedo feel something she didn’t quite understand. It made her hands reach out to him again, pull him closer, and made her mouth open to his. Max’s giant hands went to her back and pressed her against him, leaning her further back against the car. The inch of height she had on him didn’t matter. She felt boneless, like she could count on Max to hold her up.

Her hand started moving down his stomach, and she didn’t know why. Max moved his body away and pressed his forehead to hers. Cheedo dropped her arms to her sides and Max held her waist.

“Whoa,” he said.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

“Have to go slow, you too.” His words were short again, like they usually were, unlike how he had spoken to her in the last few minutes.

“I know, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry.”

“I’m just…” _Used to it_ , she almost said.

“Joe made you do that?”

She worried her bottom lip with her teeth.

“You don’t have to. Ever. Unless you want to.” Cheedo nodded carefully. They kissed one more time. “Let’s get to work.”

Cheedo looked down at her white dress, steadying herself, away from Max for the first time in a while. “Could I borrow something of yours to wear?”

“Right. I should change too.” He started towards the door and Cheedo blushed, suddenly realizing that they had been all over each other, in plain sight of the road. She followed him through his house, small and neat, not much art or decoration. A few photos of Jessie and his son, which made her wonder if this was the house they had lived in together. She couldn’t imagine living in the same house for over 20 years and not making it look like home at all, but she bet Max could. Before she could realize it, they were standing in his bedroom. She thought about his lips on her neck as he rummaged in the middle drawer of a plain white dresser.

In fact, the whole room was white, except the black comforter and pillows on the queen bed. The walls were bare and she wanted to fill them with something, art or memories or sounds.

Max handed her a grey t shirt already covered in grease stains. She could picture him in it easily. “I don’t know what else to give you,” he sighed.

“Would boxers be too much?” She was half joking, but he opened the top drawer and dug under solid colored briefs to find a pair of plaid boxers. She took them, and followed his finger to the bathroom just off his room.

His clothes smelled like him: oil, vanilla, and something warm. They fit strangely well. The shirt was a tad big in the shoulders, but fell to her hips, just below the waistband of the boxers. _His underwear_ , she thought.

Max sighed when she opened the door.

“First date and I got into your pants,” Cheedo said from the doorframe, earning a big smile from Max. “Can I hang my dress up? I’m terrified of wrinkles.”

“Course.” He opened the closet door, next to the dresser, and pulled out a hanger. She slipped her pristine white dress onto it, making sure the shoulders weren’t folded over. It was one of her favorite dresses she had bought since Joe, the kind she’d always wanted but didn’t have the means to buy or wear. Hanging in Max’s closet, in between his button ups and uniforms, it shone like a moon on a quiet night. Cheedo loved it.

They worked on his car for hours, side by side, shoulders together, looking up as Max would do something to the underside of the car and then let Cheedo try. He was a good teacher. Both Max and Furiosa were so patient with her, in everything she did. Everything she learned about cars felt like a patch on her brain, covering up one of Joe’s actions or words.

Cheedo was too nervous to put her dress back on because of how dirty she had gotten, arms deep in Max’s car. Her sisters almost smothered her when she walked through the door in his underwear, and she couldn’t stop grinning long enough to answer their questions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> meant to take it slow, and then these two filled me up with joy.


	4. Touch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Max and Cheedo share some of their pasts, and dance like crazy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I genuinely don't know where all of this is coming from.

Max called her later that night. He felt silly using it, but he only had their home phone number, so he dialed and hoped she would answer.

“Hello?” Toast.

“It’s Max.”

“I guess you want to talk to Cheedo. She’s not wearing your underwear anymore, sorry. We’re going out.” He knew Toast could feel his blush through the phone.

“Can I just have a minute?”

“Of course, I’ll get her.” The phone rustled against fabric and he could hear Toast calling Cheedo’s name. “It’s Max,” she said kindly, then his sweet girl was taking the phone.

“Hi, Max.”

“Hi. You’re going out?”

“Yeah, Capable says some club in town has good food. I can probably get one of them to dance with me.”

“Will you be safe?”

“Of course. I have my sisters.” Max could hear her moving around, getting comfortable maybe. He wondered what her bedroom looked like. “Do you have any plans for the night?”

He looked at the pile of papers in front of him. “Paperwork.”

“Why?” Cheedo asked.

“Why?” He was not expecting that. “I don’t know.”

“Do you have to do it now?”

“No.”

“Why don’t you do something fun? Work on the car, go see a movie.”

“Why?”

“I want you to have fun while I’m having fun, if we’re not having fun together on girl’s night.” As enamored as he was with Cheedo, Max couldn’t imagine tagging along for a girl’s night. But he was freshly excited about the car.

“Okay, right, I’ll work on the car. Let me know if you need anything?”

“Are you getting overprotective already?”

“Yes. Definitely.”

“I don’t mind. I feel safe with you on my side. I’ll text you so you have my number. Expect emoji.”

“Alright. Have fun.”

“You too, Max. Good night.” After he hung up, he looked at the phone. He couldn’t believe he had called a girl on the phone. He never thought he would be doing all this again; the wooing, the courting, the flirting. It all felt natural with Cheedo, though.

Her message came a moment later: “I’ll text you when I’m home, don’t have too much fun” and three tiny cows in a row.

He worked on his car all night, keeping his phone near him so he would notice right away if Cheedo texted him. He didn’t think anything was going to happen at a club in the safe part of town—not the area with MFP’s bar—but  he was ready to jump up and help her at a moment’s notice. And he especially awaited her promised text saying she was home safe.

**

The club was awesome. Cheedo’s bones filled with the bass immediately. Her sisters found a table and Capable went to order drinks and reportedly good nachos. She itched to get up and dance, get lost amongst the sweaty crowd.

“What did Max want?” Toast asked around the whole chip in her mouth.

“Just wanted to see what I was up to.”

“That’s nice. What’s he doing?”

“Staying home, working on the car.”

 “Is he too boring for you?” Cheedo stood up so fast her stool tilted precariously on two legs for a second. “I’m sorry, Cheedo, I mean the best.”

“Max is exactly what I want,” she said forcefully. This was the most serious she had ever been with one of her sisters.

“Okay. I trust you. We trust you.” Toast gestured to her other sisters.

“Thank you. Now, who wants to dance with me?” They all raised their hands and used them to make a train between their bodies as they found a clear space on the dance floor. Cheedo liked how it felt to hold their hands while dancing. She could only feel the bass, her sweat, and their skin. It was easy. She didn’t have to think. Her mind was blank, save for thoughts of how Max had touched her that morning with his sturdy hands. She couldn’t wait to be pressed against him again.

Once she was snug in her bed, she sent him a text: “Home, safe, and sleepy. Thinking about how good today was.” It was vague yet sincere. She tried hard to not include any emoji, and had carefully crafted the two sentences. Cheedo wanted him to know that she was thinking of him, but didn’t want him to know that as soon as she turned the light off, she slipped her hand between her legs and touched herself for the first time since she and her sisters had been rescued. She felt Max there with her, and wasn’t afraid of the place where Joe had hurt her.

She checked her phone before she fell asleep. He had texted back. “Glad. Been thinking about you for hours.” Cheedo fell asleep, warm and dazed with her crush that was growing leaves and flowers and taking root in every inch of her.

**

“It doesn’t hurt, really.” Max poured more water over Cheedo’s foot. In his garage late Monday afternoon, they had been working on the car when Cheedo dropped a screwdriver. The point had stabbed shallowly into the top of her foot and while she insisted it was okay, Max fussed over it. “It’s my own fault that I forgot my boots.”

“You stay here,” he said and fetched a first aid kit from the wall. “This place is filthy. Have to be careful.” He bandaged it quickly. Max wouldn’t let them go back to work, and instead kissed over the bandage on her delicate foot and led her to the kitchen. “Something to drink?”

“Please.”

After pouring each of them a glass of lemonade, Max sat across from her at his small table. “The day we met, at MFP’s, you said you were writing a lot.” He didn’t have to make it a question for Cheedo to understand what he was asking.

“Yeah, I write about everything. My life before, our time with Joe, life now, how wonderful it is. Every day I write down what I’ve learned, what you and Furiosa are teaching me.”

“It helps you?”

She nodded. “My sisters don’t talk about specifics much. They curse Joe, thank whoever that he’s dead. They don’t talk about her, our fifth.” Max knew this from the report. Joe had had a fifth hostage, a woman named Angharad. She was very pregnant when Furiosa found them, and when Joe realized the police were coming and his sanctuary would soon be destroyed, he killed her. Shot her in the temple. “She was Joe’s favorite. Called her Splendid. He’d had her much longer than the rest of us, and if it wasn’t for her I think I would have given up. She made me strong, she still does. I write about her every day, just to see her name.”

“You are strong. You were a hero that day.”

“Angharad told me it was easier if I didn’t fight Joe, when it was my turn.” Max’s fists clenched in fury. “She was dead by then, but I was so scared and there were so many guns. I wanted it to end, I wanted Joe to be punished. I barely remember calling out to him.”

“You saved your sisters.”

“Not Angharad.”

Max leaned forward and wiped the tears off of Cheedo’s cheeks, kissed them from his fingers, like she had done to him. She reached for his hand and kissed them too.

“He called me Fragile. I just wanted to prove him wrong.”

“Cheedo. You did. You still are.”

“He said I would never have a family without him. That he would take care of me.” She whispered the next few words. “He made me call him Dad, when he hurt me.” And then she was crying too hard to go on. Max pulled her towards him and she scrambled into his lap, folding into herself and his chest.

“No, no, no tears,” he soothed. He ran his fingers through her hair while she cried, giving her time. She eventually quieted down and he kissed the top of her head softly.

Cheedo sat up and wiped her eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“No apologies.” She traced his lips with her thumb, kissed them. “Would you like to see my family?” Cheedo nodded. Her hand in his, Max walked to his bedroom and sat in front of a tall bookshelf, patting the ground next to him. He had one album with every picture of Jessie and Sprog he owned, save for the one in his wallet. He hadn’t put it together; he wasn’t crafty enough. Furiosa had done it one day, when she’d noticed how he kept the pictures in a shoebox. He cherished the book, kept it safe on a low shelf, next to his bed.

He pulled it out then, and balanced it between their bent knees. The first picture was his favorite. It was one of those cheesy family portraits from a store at the mall, from when Sprog was about 2. This shot wasn’t one of the ones they had ordered prints of, because it was before they had started posing, and was messy. Max and Jessie were standing and looking at each other, laughing, and Sprog, the little boy who had shared his name for such a short time, was on the stool in front of them, a big smile on his face and his arms outstretched as if he was giving the whole world a hug.

“That’s Jess, and little Max. We called him Sprog.”

“They’re so gorgeous. You all look so happy.”

They went through the whole album together. Cheedo asked a few questions, or commented on her favorite photos. Once they’d turned the final page, she flipped back to a picture of Max with Sprog on his shoulders. Max was looking down, but the child was looking right at the camera, happy and young. “I love this one,” she said. “You must be a great dad.”

Max felt it again, that nagging, the thought that Cheedo was confused, misguided, and really just wanted a father.

“That’s what this is, isn’t it?” he asked.

“What is?”

“You’ve needed a father your whole life.”

Cheedo glared at him.

“I don’t want you to be my father, Max.” He lowered his head, feeling like a fool. “I like you. I want to be with you. I’m attracted to you. Have you forgotten about Saturday morning already? I haven’t.” She held his cheeks and made him look at her. “Don’t assume anything about me. Communicate with me if you’re having doubts. I know this is fast and there’s an age difference and a month ago I was trapped in the tower of a very bad man, but I like you. Fuck, I like you.”

“You’ll grow tired of me. You’ll find someone younger, more attractive.” Cheedo gasped at his words, then leaned forward to whisper in his ear.

“Saturday night, I touched myself to the thought of you, of the way you touched me.”

She lingered there for a bit, her cheek pressed against his. Max tried to convey his apology through the way he touched her back, but his hands were shaking with the excitement her words brought.

Straightening up, Cheedo closed the photo album and put it back on the shelf. “Thank you for showing me your family. Now, come on.” She stood up and held out her hand.

“Where are we going?”

“MFP’s. I’m going to show you how attracted to you I am.”

 

As soon as they walked through the door Max remembered what it felt like to be so enamored by Cheedo the first time they had met. How he couldn’t look away from her as she danced with the Dag.

It was fairly empty, this early on a Monday night. Cheedo sat them at the bar and ordered two shots of whiskey and two beers. She scooted close to his stool so their arms were touching, then picked up her shot and nodded at him to do the same. They clinked the tiny glasses and downed the whiskey. Max chased it with a sip of beer, but Cheedo just touched two fingers to her lips and closed her eyes for a second.

When she opened them, Max could see a new warmth there. It excited him, but also scared him. Cheedo looked powerful and sure of her plan, whatever it was.

The place started to fill up as they drank their beers, and Max read on the chalkboard behind the bar that Monday was dance night. The floor was filling up with couples, young and old, and soon he couldn’t recognize anyone. The lights were low and the music was loud, and Cheedo was pulling him up and through the crowd. The temperature immediately rose and Max felt sweat start to form at his temples. He followed Cheedo’s white t shirt through the crowd, realizing they had never changed out of their greasy work clothes. But it didn’t matter in this crowd, where no one was looking at anyone except for their dance partners.

There were men and women, dancing in close pairs or larger groups of four or five. Max didn’t recognize the music, but he didn’t think it mattered, because the heavy bass was so present that it took over his body.

He couldn’t remember the last time he had danced like this, even been in a place like this, and wondered if he ever had. Jessie had loved to dance, and he had loved to watch her, but usually that would take place in their kitchen, with Sprog running around their feet. Here, with Cheedo, he felt what it was like to step outside of himself, and feel nothing but his body and how it touched Cheedo’s.

She was a goddess. She moved as if she didn’t have to think about it, just wrapped her arms around Max’s neck, their eyes level, and swayed against him. He put his hands on her back, as low as he dared. The song was graphic, not that Max could focus on the words or even anything besides Cheedo’s eyes on his, but he felt the chorus in his heart, unapologetically stating “I wanna fucking tear you apart.”

He felt alive. Cheedo was bringing him back to life. He felt like he’d been hibernating for the last twenty years and he was finally awake.

The music changed to something grimier, with a slower beat. Cheedo turned away from him and his hands followed, sliding to her hips. He kissed her neck and inhaled. Mint, oil, sweat, faintly. She reached up and grasped the back of his head, keeping him pressed to her.

Like this, Max knew. He could feel Cheedo’s attraction in the way she moved. She was sure of herself, sure in the way she wanted to feel Max.

“Let’s take a break,” Max said after a few songs. She latched onto his shirt and arm as they moved towards the bar. It felt strange to be separated from her. “Drink?”

“Water. Tequila.” Cheedo wrapped her arms around Max’s stomach while he spoke to the bartender. He could feel her heavy breathing as she whispered in his ear.

“Do you see now?” He couldn’t think of an answer to counteract his earlier stupidity.

He turned to look at her. “I’m an idiot. I’m sorry.” She kissed him and he wanted to inhale her, right there. The bartender put down their waters and poured the shots without them noticing, wrapped up in each other. They separated when he announced their total. Max fished some dollar bills out of his pocket and handed them over while Cheedo chugged one of the waters and Max realized how hot and thirsty he was, too. Their cups empty, they toasted their shots and threw them back. Max could feel Cheedo’s eagerness to get back to dancing, and she dragged him back out, touching her lips like she had after her first shot.

The song playing was poppy and kind of weird, but Cheedo seemed to love it. Her dancing was a bit bouncier, and Max wasn’t sure what to do until the chorus came, heavier and easier to feel, and she pressed into him, kissing him hungrily.

Somehow, the world hadn’t stopped. People were still dancing around them, but Max’s thoughts flew out of his head. Cheedo was warm against him, and she tasted like the bite of tequila. His bones felt loose and stretched, like he could get tangled up in Cheedo forever.

She pulled away as the chorus turned into weird vocals pops and effects, crying “free the animal” over and over. He was overwhelmed. He’d never felt like this in his life.

He never wanted to take his hands off of her.

 

A while later, when they were both too tired to stand anymore, they stumbled out to the car, his arm around Cheedo’s shoulder, both her arms wrapped around Max. They flopped against the car, exhausted.

“Thank you,” he said.

“For what?”

“That was very new for me.”

“I love dancing. It’s a good way to communicate when talking isn’t easy.” She looked at him as if to say ‘you don’t speak much and it’s alright.’

 “I don’t doubt you anymore. I never should have.” Cheedo ran her hands over his buzzed hair.

“It’s okay. Let’s get out of here.”

He kissed her for way too long before letting her get out of his car, then watched her until she was inside her apartment. She waved from the front window, before her sisters descended on her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The songs were "tear you apart" by she wants revenge, very shortly "teardrop" by massive attack, and "free the animal" by Sia. What??? that's the title of this story. Wow.


	5. Thought

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thursday night dinner, week 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating change, things get heavier, still in love with these two.

Thursday night dinner rolled around quickly. Cheedo’s sisters kept making comments about Max, how they were going to have talks with him, and Cheedo spent more time trying to convince them not to than actually getting ready.

Capable, obsessed with getting Max and Cheedo alone even though they’d spent many hours together in the past week, pushed them out the door as soon as Max arrived, claiming she forgot to buy salad ingredients. And yet, she stuffed a list into Cheedo’s palm.

They hadn’t left the hallway outside of their door.

“Hi,” Cheedo said and touched Max’s shirt. “This is nice. Is this new?”

“No, never wanted to wear it before.” She straightened the collar and had a weird flash of how it would look on her, with nothing else. “Hi,” Max added, and swept her into a kiss. She lost her breath.

“We’d better get this stuff for Capable,” she murmured after a minute or two. Max kissed her forehead before heading back out to his car.

The drive to the grocery store was short, and Cheedo realized they’d never shopped together.

“Is shopping a defining moment in a relationship?” Max asked.

“Of course! Everyone’s shopping style is a little different. What if ours don’t go together well?”

“We shop separately.”

“Oh, Max. It’s not that simple.”

Luckily, they wanted the same kind of cart—the one with two baskets on top of each other—and Max didn’t mind pushing when Cheedo said she hated it. Max wasn’t confused when she refused to put a single pepper in a bag, to save plastic. They even pointed to the same kind of croutons.

A few people said hi to Max, recognizing him even outside of his uniform.

“Sometimes I forget you’re a cop,” Cheedo commented.

“Why’s that?”

“I just think about Monday night. I’ve never danced like that with a cop.”

“Cops aren’t allowed to dance?”

Cheedo bumped his shoulder with her own. “You know what I mean.” She wondered if people ever recognized her from their time on the news. “Do people remember us? My sisters and I?”

“Every news story fades.”

“We faded?” Cheedo looked down at the list, pretending on check things off.

“Not to some people.”

Cheedo didn’t like that she had to live with her memories every second of every day, while everyone else got to obsess over the story for a few days and then never trouble themselves again. She had the sudden urge to scream her story at the top of her lungs in this produce department. She supposed that was why she wrote things down; maybe one day someone would read them.

“So?” Max asked once the groceries had been loaded into the car and they were back on the road.

“We are very grocery store compatible. Clothing or other things could still be a disaster.” She imagined shopping for other things with Max, towels or dishes. She liked it, and suddenly understood why people got their things monogrammed.

When they got back, the party was in full swing, not suffering at all from the lack of salad. Hands had wine glasses and faces had smiles.

“How did it go?” Toast asked. She understood shopping compatibility.

“Very good. We like the same kind of carts and croutons,” Cheedo reported. Toast clapped her free hand on Max’s shoulder, and he looked baffled that someone else was aware of this concept. “Wine?” Cheedo asked him.

“Mm, please.” Cheedo hadn’t had alcohol or seen Max since Monday night. Déjà vu hit her hard while she was pouring and she looked up at her sisters, Max, and Nux, so happy. Sickeningly happy. She felt compelled for a second to make a toast, and then quickly dismissed the idea.

Until they were seated, in the same arrangement as the week prior. Furiosa picked up her wine and said a quiet cheers, and suddenly Cheedo was talking, with no idea where the courage had come from.

“To our family. Thank you, Joe, for bringing us together.” Her sisters were silent. And then:

“And to Angharad,” the Dag added. The silence that followed was comfortable. Furiosa reached out her hand as if grabbing something out of the air and brought it to her chest. Cheedo blinked away tears, and then silverware was picked up and the happy noises of a good meal took over.

 

The meal felt easy, and Cheedo’s worry that she had said the wrong thing evaporated. It wasn’t a permanent fix; this didn’t mean the four of them were all of a sudden going to start talking about everything. Cheedo knew certain things were going to be off limits for quite a while. But no one was going anywhere.

Cheedo even got Max to talk about his car and the work they were doing. Furiosa asked a ton of questions, and Cheedo even answered some. Her sisters were impressed; they hadn’t witnessed what she was learning like she had sat with the Dag’s plants or eaten Capable’s cooking or accompanied Toast to the shooting range. She felt older, revered.

Instead of the basket of clues which signaled after charades, Toast produced a showy briefcase with poker supplies. So while Furiosa and the Dag cleared the table, Toast set up a makeshift poker table on the soft carpet of the living room. It was clear she knew what she was doing, but Cheedo couldn’t remember her ever mentioning poker.

She’d never played before so Max and her played a few rounds together. He was good, smart and quiet with his decisions, always knowing when to fold. Cheedo trusted him and soon felt confident to play on her own.

She tried to be like Max: calm, hard to read, imposing. She psyched Nux out pretty hard, bluffing until it was just the two of them and she was all in. She made eye contact with him until he folded with an amazing hand, compared to her nonsense, no value at all. Everyone howled with laughter as she collected her winnings from Nux, who looked like he’d seen a ghost. Cheedo felt Max’s hand on her back, congratulatory. She decided she liked this game. It favored the underestimated.

Everyone was wary of Cheedo after that, so she played it cool, folding when she had bad hands and not being overly aggressive or casual when she had good hands. Eventually, it was down to her and Max, each with a mountain of chips in front of them. Her sisters and Nux looked surprised that she had survived this long. Max and Furiosa did not.

Toast dealt the cards and Cheedo realized just how good of a hand she could have if she got one card. She didn’t let anything show on her face when Toast added the exact card she needed. Max and Cheedo bet back and forth until Toast made them stop.

“She’s bluffing, Max, what are you doing?”

“Don’t let her do this to you, man, it doesn’t feel good.”

Max didn’t seem to hear them. He looked at Cheedo and she smiled. “I’m all in,” he said, trusting that she wasn’t bluffing, that this would be a fair fight.

“Me, too,” she replied.

“Let’s see then,” Toast said and gestured for them to lay down their cards. Cheedo couldn’t keep from grinning as she showed her cards: a royal flush. Someone gasped, and Max sighed at his two pair.

“Beautiful job,” he said quietly to Cheedo amongst everyone’s congratulations.

“I had a good teacher,” she joked. He kissed her chastely and her heart burst open.

**

“Come see my room,” Cheedo said to Max once Furiosa had left and Capable had tugged Nux to her own room. He could hear the Dag and Toast cleaning up in the kitchen. Max nodded and followed her.

Cheedo’s room was just like her and Max could imagine her dreaming about it, through every foster home and shelter. The walls were white with a strip of cerulean blue at waist height and a delicate bronze floral pattern stenciled inside that. Her bed was huge, with a simple wood frame. The headboard had a thick dandelion pattern in the wood.

“I wood-burned the headboard myself, spent an entire week on it,” Cheedo explained when he stared at it. The bed spread was plain soft pink and girly compared to Max. He sat on it warily. Cheedo nudged his knees with her own so he was sitting further back, then straddled his lap.

He watched her unbutton his shirt to get to the v neck she knew would be under it. Max got the sense that she was in love with his shoulders. His hands were on her bare thighs, under her skirt, and when she kissed him and he couldn’t help but grip her just a bit harder.

Cheedo reached for the bottom of his shirt. “Can I?” she murmured against his jaw.

“Yes.” He thanked himself for years of going to the gym most days before work, as Cheedo ran her hands over the muscles of his chest and back. She was just staring, following her hands with her eyes.

“Will you take my shirt off?” she asked carefully. Max untucked it from her skirt and lifted the fabric slightly so he could bend and kiss the skin there. Cheedo shuddered and giggled, ticklish, and Max lifted her shirt over her head. Her small breasts were level with his face and he was drawn to them, contained in a simple black bra. Planting kisses across her skin, christening it, Max fingered the clasp and looked to Cheedo for permission. She nodded slightly and moved to slide the straps off. Without looking away from her, Max moved his hands, cupped her breasts and kissed between them.

Cheedo pushed him back with one hand on his chest, the other covering her mouth. She scrambled off of his lap, grabbed his discarded button up, and quickly wrapped it around herself. Kneeling and facing away from him, Max thought she was crying, but realized she was dry heaving from deep in her abdomen.

He didn’t know what to do. He wanted to touch her, comfort her, but he didn’t want to scare her. It hurt him to just sit while she was in pain. Then she reached out for him with one hand, the one not holding his shirt tight around her body. Max held it tightly with both of his until she was breathing normally.

She turned to him with tears on her cheeks and in drops on his shirt. She looked terrified. He bent to get his t shirt and put it on quickly so he could hold her and make sure she was comfortable. Cheedo collapsed into him and let out a huge breath.

They ended up sitting up against her headboard, cushioned by almost all of her pillows. Cheedo was more on him than her bed, and still Max wished he could get her closer, safer.

“What was that?” she asked.

“Anxiety attack.”

“Oh.”

“Have you ever had one before?”

“Yeah, after my first time with Joe. Angharad helped me.”

“I’m so sorry. You’re shaking, do you want a blanket?” She sat up and nodded. Max pulled the fuzzy bundle up from the end of the bed and wrapped Cheedo in it, then settled her back against him.

“I don’t know why that happened.” Her voice was tiny.

“Not your fault. Ever. We’ll go slower.”

“Thank you,” she said and kissed his throat.

**

Cheedo found Capable sitting at the kitchen island the next morning. Her other sisters were nowhere to be found.

“Good morning,” she said as she poured herself a cup of coffee.

“Hi. Last night was good,” Capable replied, putting down her book. Cheedo sat next to her stiffly. “What’s up? Something’s up with you.”

“Last night. Max and I were…kissing, and I took off his shirt.” All of a sudden the events of last night poured out of Cheedo. “And I asked him to take off mine and he did and he didn’t hurt me, he was kind, like always, but I freaked out. I don’t know why, I just started gagging and crying and I couldn’t stop, couldn’t even look at Max. I was fine, Capable, I was fine with what we were doing! Why did that happen?”

Capable held her coffee mug with both hands and stared hard at the counter.

“Did that happen with you and Nux?” Cheedo added. She nodded.

“Yes, the first time we ever had sex. I freaked out, just like you. I didn’t even want to touch Nux, and he was so confused. He thought I was mad at him, or that he had hurt me. He hadn’t, I just got overwhelmed. I’d been ignoring what happened to us for weeks, and all of a sudden everything Joe did just came back.”

Cheedo thought about the notebooks she had filled with Joe. Were they not enough? “How did you get past it?” she asked Capable.

“It’s not easy for us, Cheedo. We move very slow and we talked about what I don’t want. I had to tell him everything so he would understand what it was like with Joe, so he could be nothing like that. It hurt so much but I feel close to him because of it. If you can, if you’re ready, you should talk to Max. He’s a good man, and he’ll listen.”

“I think I can. I write about it a lot. I don’t want to hide from Joe, or keep this from Max.”

“You always were the brave one, Cheedo, after Angharad.” Like every mention of Angharad, Cheedo felt it in her stomach, felt the one they had lost.

“I wish she could have come with us,” she whispered. Capable pulled her into a hug. “She would have had the baby by now.”

“Don’t do anything with Max that you don’t want to do, alright?”

“I won’t. He would never pressure me.”

“I know. Just be careful, think about what you want.”

Cheedo thought about the night she had touched herself to thoughts of him, and how their bodies seemed to understand each other while dancing. She wanted to know him, completely.

“Thank you, Capable.”

“You’re welcome, Cheedo. If it happens again, when you can’t breathe, try focusing on each of your muscles, one at a time. It helps me.” Cheedo pulled back to look at her.

“It still happens to you?”

“Sometimes, yes. I don’t think it’ll ever stop.” Cheedo nodded. “You can always talk to me about this stuff. And be safe, yeah?” She nodded again.

“I’m sorry you didn’t have anyone to talk to when it started for you.”

“I had Nux. None of us are alone anymore.”

Back in her room, Cheedo picked up Max’s button up shirt, the one she had put on the night before, the one she had imagined herself in at the beginning of the night. Their first time going further hadn’t gone well, and it frustrated her, but she wasn’t worried. She trusted Max and herself.

**

Max’s first thought upon waking was Cheedo. He called her before he even got out of bed, hoping she would be awake.

“Hi Max,” she said after just one ring. He was relieved to hear her voice.

“Good morning. How are you?”

“I’m alright. Thanks for calling so early.”

“I didn’t wake you?”

“Oh no, I love mornings. I already had coffee and a great talk with Capable about…intimacy.”

“Oh.”

“She gave me lots of advice, stuff we can try.” Max’s hope returned.

“You still want to?”

“Max, of course. Joe can’t win this. I want you.” She didn’t wait for confirmation or agreement from him, just went on. “Would you like to do something tonight? Get dinner and talk?”

“Definitely. I can pick you up after work? I’m done at 4:30.”

“I’ll be at Furiosa’s.”

“Alright.”

“Have a good day, Max.”

“You too.” He lounged back after hanging up, thought about the girl who wanted him.

 


	6. Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Friday night spent in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> almost completely unedited, but I'm too excited.

Max pulled up to Furiosa’s shop a little after 4:30 and his anxiety reached a new high. Even after talking to Cheedo that morning, he worried she would change her mind and decide she couldn’t be with him when he walked in. He wished he had gone home first to change out of his uniform, but he’d wanted to see her so badly. Cheedo had only seen him in uniform when he came to the shop the first time, when he’d pulled away from her.

He knocked on the frame of the open door to get Cheedo’s attention. Her back was to him as she scrubbed something in the stained sink. Max stared at her filthy clothes and then her hair, in that confusing braid crown again—how did she do that?—and wanted to scoop her up.

Cheedo turned around while drying her hands on a paper towel, and her eyes lit up. “Hi, Max!” she said as she made her way over to him. He couldn’t help but watch the way her long legs navigated the maze of Furiosa’s garage.

She launched herself into his arms. “Cheedo,” he murmured into her hair. Pulling back, she ran her hands over his chest and shoulders.

“Look at you. Officer Max.”

“You’re not intimidated?” She looked shocked.

“The man in this uniform saved my life, you fool!” Max pressed his lips to her forehead and she rubbed his short hair, then pulled him into her with a hand on the back of his neck for a long kiss.

Soon, Max remembered Furiosa, and was terrified of what she would do if she saw him kissing Cheedo like this. He pulled away from the kiss, keeping his arms wrapped tightly around her.

“Where’s Furiosa?”

“In her office. She wants to talk to you before we go. I just have to finish cleaning up.” Max left her to it and went to Furiosa’s office.

She pointed to the chair in front of her desk and Max sat, feeling like he was in trouble. “Cheedo told me about what happened.” Max nodded. “Thoughts?”

He was surprised. He was so ready to be chastised for moving too fast or hurting her, and then he wondered exactly why he had expected this of Furiosa, who was always so rational and had encouraged their relationship in the first place.

“Just worried about her.”

“She’s strong. She can figure this out, and she could use your help. I’m not telling you what to do, or scolding you, and I shouldn’t be getting involved, but I care for these girls. We’ve been friends for a long time and I trust you to help her through this. Can you handle it, after Jessie?”

“That was a long time ago.”

“I know. Sometimes it still feels like yesterday.”

Max knew he was lucky to have a friend like Furiosa, who had known both him and Jessie and Sprog, who could be honest with him. He didn’t have the words to thank her.

“I want to do this with her,” he said. Furiosa’s smile was genuinely happy, and Max felt like his was too.

 

“Where should we go for dinner?” Max asked Cheedo in the car, feeling like he was smiling obviously and uncontrollably.

“I don’t know, I’m filthy.”

“We could cook, at my place or yours. We already know we’re grocery store compatible. Just have to stop at my place to change. I don’t like shopping in my uniform, people stare.”

Cheedo laughed. “Okay, fine. What’s your favorite food?”

“Don’t care. What do you want?”

They hadn’t made any conclusions by the time Max pulled into his driveway. Cheedo was, for some reason, just naming fruits.

“Fruit salad?” he said and unlocked the front door.

“Yes, good idea! And chicken kabobs! Do you have a grill? Do you have a backyard?”

“I do. I guess you’ve never seen it. I’ll give you a tour later. I’ll change quick.”

Max was heading out of the kitchen when she stopped him with a quiet question: “Can I help?”

He looked over his shoulder. “Sure.” She took his hand when he held it out to her and they made their way to his bedroom.

“You do look handsome in this,” Cheedo said and started to unbutton his shirt. Max pulled off his already loosened tie and tossed it on his bed, then started to undo his cuffs when Cheedo stopped him. “Let me,” she said and carefully slid the buttons through the holes. She was so caring with her every movement, it made Max calm.

She seemed happy to see him back in a v neck after sliding his shirt off, lingering on the muscles in his upper arms. Max laid the shirt next to his tie, and tensed as Cheedo’s hands started on his belt.

“You don’t have to.”

“I know. I can.” Max kicked off his shoes so he would have something to concentrate on. He was trying his hardest to be casual about this, to keep Cheedo feeling safe.

Then she was done, and his pants fell around his ankles and he stepped out of them. Cheedo leaned her cheek on his shoulder.

“Alright?”

“Yep. I feel powerful,” she said. “I’m gonna get a drink, then let’s go. I’m starving,” she added after kissing him quickly.

Max stood alone in his room for a second, waiting for the strength to take a deep breath. He wondered how that had been the most arousing act he’d ever experienced.

 

It turned out Cheedo was learning about more than just cars. She knew her way around a grill, and barely asked for Max’s help. Instead, she talked as she assembled kabobs and cut fruit. She had laughed off Max’s suggestion of pre-cut fruit and instead went for whole melons and pineapples, even a few kiwi and oranges.

Cheedo told him everything that had happened in the five months she and her sisters were held by Joe, starting with how he found her eating at a soup kitchen and taken her as she left.  

She spared no details. Max could see everything perfectly. It was easy to imagine the man he had killed as a monster. She didn’t stop, except to ask quick questions about some utensil or spice, as if she was afraid she would lose her courage.

Max tried to absorb it and not react or interrupt, but sometimes sounds of anger or sadness or disgust would come out of him.

Setting the full bowl of fruit salad in front of him on the dining table, she looked at him hard. “Do you understand why I had to tell you all that?”

“Yes.”

“I need you to know what happened to me so you won’t wonder, so you know how to be with me,” she explained anyway.

“I want to,” he said. Cheedo touched his hands with her own.

“I’ll go get the kabobs.”

 

“What did it feel like to say all that?” Max asked during dinner.

Cheedo took a sip of lemonade before answering. “Like I was back there. But I’ve written about it so much it was almost natural. I guess that’s a good thing.”

“You’re brave.”

“How do you feel? That’s a lot to hear in one sitting.”

“I’d kill him again if I got the chance.”

“It shouldn’t mean so much to me that you’re the one who did it. Thanks again.” She waved a speared pepper around on her fork, gesturing to his house. “I still want a tour.”

“After dinner, which is amazing. Capable taught you this?”

“Yep. I like grilling because of the heat, and cutting fruit is satisfying. When she was teaching me, we would pretend melons were Joe’s head.” She seemed embarrassed to say this, and looked so young. Max didn’t think she was childish for doing that with her sister.

“You are lucky to have them,” Max said and took her empty plate to the sink. “Come on.” He reached out for her hand.

They made their way through the house, which wasn’t big, but Cheedo asked questions or picked things up. He showed her the guest bedroom—decorated by the realtor—and the back deck, which she’d seen while grilling.

“What a great backyard. It makes me want to swim.” He looked at her, confused. “It feels like summer.” And as she said that, it started raining. Max ducked back behind the overhang, but Cheedo bounded down the steps and stood in the open yard, putting her head back and her arms out.

Max watched her get soaked and wondered what she was thinking out there. At the first rumble of thunder, he went out to her. “Come inside, Cheedo,” he said softly so he wouldn’t disturb her. She kissed him quickly and deeply before following him back to the house. Max’s face was wet from the rain and yet he could feel the wetness from Cheedo’s lips on his own.

“That felt good, after talking about Joe so much,” she said as she dripped onto the floor of Max’s kitchen. He got her a towel and she dried her face and limbs, but still looked so cold in her soaked clothes. “I might get hypothermia though.”

“Then let’s you get warm clothes.”

“Will you help me?” Cheedo asked, mirroring her own question from earlier. Max nodded.

With rapture, Max removed her wet clothes, down to her underwear, then dried her gorgeous skin. She closed her eyes at times, but also stared right at him. He’d never wanted to be so gentle as when he was touching Cheedo. He didn’t let his eyes linger over her breasts, or where her thighs met her floral-patterned underwear.

She raised her arms to help him cover her in a big t shirt, and while he found the boxers she’d worn the first time they’d worked on his car, she slipped her underwear off. Max’s hands shook as she stepped into the legs and he paused with them over her knees.

“It’s okay,” she whispered, and put her hands over his on the boxers. Together, they slid them up to her hips. Like when Cheedo had undressed him, Max felt like he couldn’t take a proper breath.

She kissed him then. It was gentle and smooth, and she touched the stubble on his cheeks while he ran his hands over her strong back. “Your shirt is wet,” she mumbled, and took it off. Max could feel her chest so clearly through her shirt, pressed against his own. She walked him back so his legs hit his bed, and he sat. Like the previous night, she straddled his lap.

“Can I keep my clothes on?” she asked quietly.

“Of course, Cheedo, whatever you want.”

She reached up and pulled some tiny pins out of her hair, still in that mystifying crown, then undid the braid. Max watched as she made her way around her head, unwinding and then shaking it out when she finished.

“How do you do that?” he asked in adoration.

“I’ll let you watch sometime.” Cheedo kissed him again and her hands went to his bare shoulders. “You’re so hot,” she said.

Max no longer thought about himself in terms of attractiveness. But certainly, in that moment with Cheedo, he felt like he did when he was falling in love for the first time: like his confidence was spilling out of him.

He let himself get lost in her hair and how it fell around both of their faces, and how she was pressing her hips closer and closer to his torso. 

Max thought about how they had danced a few days ago. He hadn’t been nervous then, and he tried to bring back that loose feeling. There had been girls since Jessie, times when he had drank too much or barely any at all, but no one like Cheedo. Those had been low points, and Cheedo held the promise of a new stage of his life.

She was letting these little gasps into his mouth. “What do you want to do?” he asked.

 “I want…” she paused, touched his lips with her thumb. “I want you to touch me.” She held his wrist and brought it towards her thighs. Max rearranged their hands so he was cupping hers, and slowly, so slowly, so she would have time to change her mind, pressed her own fingers to herself.

Cheedo sucked in a huge breath, and kept her eyes locked on Max’s. He moved their fingers in small circles around her clit, and realized that the opening in the boxers was shifting. And then Cheedo’s hand was against her skin and Max could feel the warmth too. They moved perfectly in sync, each finger mirroring the other person’s.

Max brought their middle fingers lower to the wetness there and dipped them in. He groaned when his finger got coated too, and quickly went back to her clit. Cheedo whined at the warmth and slickness. Her cheeks flushed and her eyes closed as their hands moved, and then she was sliding her hand out from under Max’s, and he was touching her.

“Yes,” she breathed. Max cupped the back of her neck with his free hand and rubbed lazy circled with the other. The angle was awkward; Cheedo was pressed so close to him, and his arm was beginning to ache. But he would do this forever if Cheedo wanted it. “You can…go in…” She trailed off, but Max understood, and sunk his finger inside of her.

Cheedo whined again. He moved slowly as his old moves came back. His finger made a beckoning motion inside of her and her eyes flew open. “Okay?”

“Yes, yes,” she said. “More.”

Max added a finger and reached up to her clit with this thumb while she adjusted around him. “Oh, that’s, yes, Max.” His name in her mouth was obscene, pornographic. She was grasping at his shoulders and digging in her nails like she was holding onto the edge of the world. “Soon, Max, really soon, I’m gonna.” Cheedo left her sentence unfinished again.

Max spun his fingers in her so he was pressing down. “That okay?” She nodded frantically at the different sensation. “I’m gonna bring my other hand down.” She just kept nodding, then exhaled hard when he resumed the circles on her clit.

 “Oh, Max, fuck, Max,” Cheedo was saying over and over, and then she tightened her hands on his shoulders and threw her head back, arching her chest into him, coming around his fingers. He slowed his movements and withdrew his hands as she rested her forehead on his shoulder.

Max rubbed her back with the hand not covered in her wetness, and she started breathing normally. When she lifted her head, he could have come himself, because her eyes were wide yet dazed, her cheeks had perfect patches of red, and she was looking at him like he’d just given her the sun.

“It’s you.”

He gave her a questioning look.

“It’s you,” she repeated, and kissed him.

She slept right there that night, wrapped up in Max. 


	7. Know

Cheedo woke up warm and with a smile on her face. It took her a second to remember why she was so happy, but it was obvious when she felt a hand in between both of hers. When she turned her head, Max was there, still asleep on his back, face to her, as if he had fallen asleep looking at her. He hadn’t put a shirt on, gloriously. Cheedo wanted to reach out and touch him, but wanted his permission. That, though, would require waking him up, and he looked so peaceful and soft.

She thought about last night and how she had let Max touch her. It had exceeded any expectations Cheedo had of her first experience was a guy after Joe, and she knew that was because of Max. He was extraordinary, exceptional, brilliant.

With that thought, he woke up. Cheedo was thrilled to get to witness the moment his eyes found hers, and the pure joy on his face.

“Good morning,” she said. Rather than saying it back, Max reached for her and pulled her body to his. She squealed in surprise, but then let out a joyous laugh. They were pressed together down to their toes and kissing, Cheedo pressing her lips to Max’s over and over, moving to his stubbly cheeks and neck.

“You feel okay about last night?” he asked.

“Yes, yes, infinitely yes,” she whispered in his ear. He rolled them so she was on her back and he could pillow his head on her chest. One of her hands went to his back, touching the tattoos softly—she needed to ask about them one day—while the other ran over his hair. It was getting too long; it seemed like it was always getting too long, and Cheedo supposed that’s what happened when a quarter of an inch made a huge difference.

Max tensed suddenly and propped himself up on an elbow. Cheedo couldn’t help but look at how his pecs tightened and flexed.

“What do you want to do for your birthday?” She was surprised by the question. No one had ever asked her that before. Either no one around her knew her birthday, or knew her well enough to draw attention to it, and she’d never advertised it much. Now, she remembered mentioning it to Max casually at their breakfast date.

“I don’t know, I’ve never done anything for my birthday.” He looked shocked and Cheedo realized just how strange it must be if someone as solitary as Max reacted that way. “I’ve never had a family to celebrate with.”

   Max sighed.

“No pressure, though,” Cheedo added with a smile in her voice. “I’m sure my sisters are already planning something crazy and elaborate.” Max just put his head back down.

Soon, her curiosity about his tattoos got the better of her. “Can you tell me about these?”

He sat up. “Police stuff, from when I was young and excited.” Cheedo looked over his bare back, didn’t remember him taking off his jeans last night, and was proud of herself for sleeping in the same bed as an almost naked man. But, of course, it was Max.

She reached out, gently starting to massage his back. In a sleepy, content voice, he explained each of them to her. Cheedo didn’t understand most of them, the words down his spine, but could understand the sentimentality behind them, Max’s affection for the community he belonged to, or used to.

“Things have been different since I blew out my knee. I pushed myself too hard after I lost Jess, took the job too seriously. Got the tattoos, was overenthusiastic. I stopped being careful and got hurt.”

Cheedo had of course noticed his strange walk, or caught him massaging his knee in a private moment, but hadn’t thought to ask about it yet. He seemed like he wasn’t done talking, so she saved her questions.

“I haven’t been able to do as much since, even though it doesn’t bother me on good days. I’m stuck inside more, probably best. I’m too old to go like I used to.” Cheedo kissed the back of his neck.

“You’re not old. I’ll keep telling you that until you _are_ old.”

“Wow, thanks.”

“Sarcasm! Amazing,” Cheedo teased and wrapped her arms around his torso, resting her chin on his shoulder. “What happened to your knee?”

“Shot. In just the right place to do a lot of damage.” He tossed the blanket back and showed her the mess of scars from the bullet and surgeries.

Cheedo couldn’t believe how open he was being with her. She wanted to keep asking questions, but didn’t want to push him. And her stomach growled. He turned his head to hers.

“Breakfast time?” She nodded and they kissed, lingering on each other.

 

Max thought about what to get Cheedo for only a few minutes before he realized he was in so far over his head. All he could see was the inevitable disappointment on her face when she saw the terrible gift he was destined to get her. Nothing felt right; jewelry was too fancy and too much, clothes would be impossible for him to pick out, books were too boring.

He realized he had four amazing resources, though: Cheedo’s sisters and Furiosa. Throughout the next week, he managed to catch each of them alone, without making Cheedo suspicious.

Arriving 10 minutes early for a Monday night date working on his car, he found the Dag while Cheedo finished getting changed. She was kneeling on the floor in front of her giant window full of plants, knuckle deep in a big brown pot with about 20 different flowers. Max lowered himself to the ground.

“What are you getting Cheedo for her birthday?”

“A little necklace with dandelions. Why?” Max nodded and saw her headboard in his mind.

“I’m stuck.”

“She’s not expecting much, Max. You haven’t known her that long. She’ll adore anything you get her. Would you hold this?” The Dag held out a bunch of red flowers, attached to a clump of dirt and Max put his hands out before he realized what he was doing. That’s how Cheedo found them; sitting on the ground, the Dag rearranging flowers, Max sitting with his hands full of dirt, looking perplexed.

“Dag, why are you making Max hold dirt?” she asked, exasperated.

“I’m not, he’s holding green things.”

“Well, how much longer does he need to hold your green things?” She was smiling down at Max, and he couldn’t wait to gather her up in his arms.

“Just a bit longer.” The Dag went right on moving flowers. Cheedo brushed her hand over Max’s hair as she walked past him into the kitchen.

The Dag took Max’s flowers back and placed them in the middle of the pot. She’s made a sea of yellow and white, with that one red bunch in the middle.

“I’m sure you’ll think of something great, just think outside of the flower pot,” she said as Max stood up. He puzzled over her strange words before realized she meant the box, think outside of the box. Max met Cheedo in the kitchen to wash his hands, no closer to finding her a gift.

 

They always lost track of time when they worked on his car, and before they knew it, it was 11 PM.

“I’ll drive you home,” Max said after dragging his lips away from Cheedo’s. He wanted to carry her inside, tuck her into his bed, and never let her leave, but he had work in the morning and she was going to Furiosa’s and they weren’t quite there yet. Saturday had been their first night spent together, and as well as it had gone, Max didn’t want to push it, and Cheedo let him drive her home.

Cheedo dragged him to her room for a few more kisses—which Max didn’t fight—and then pushed him out towards the front door before they got too carried away. “Lunch tomorrow?” She called softly after him. Max looked over his shoulder and nodded. He usually just ate his packed lunch in the break room, keeping to himself, but lately he’d been going to Furiosa’s shop, stopping at the grocery store first, so the three of them could eat together. Max liked spending the extra time with Furiosa too, making sure she took an actual break to eat a good meal. He’d never seen her cook, in all the years he’d known her.

Making sure Cheedo wasn’t watching him from her doorway, Max snuck into the kitchen, where he could hear the sink running.

Toast was there, washing dishes, and he leaned against the counter next to her.

“Max,” she said, which he accepted as a greeting.

“Toast.” She looked at him, waiting. “What are you getting Cheedo for her birthday?”

“Self-defense classes, she mentioned she wanted to learn a few weeks ago. And we’re throwing a party, Friday night.” She saw the surprise on Max’s face. “The Dag didn’t mention the party?” He shook his head. “It’s not a surprise or anything, but if you could pick Cheedo up from Furiosa’s and entertain her for about two hours so we can decorate, that would be a big help.”

“Of course,” he said. “Dag told you we spoke?”

“Yep. I get it, you want to get her something special. New girlfriends are hard to shop for. Hope we’re helping. Capable’s out on the back porch with Nux if you want to ask her too.”

Max took a few seconds to absorb these things. First, Toast had called Cheedo his girlfriend, which he absolutely thought of her as, but had never heard it out loud. He wanted to run back to Cheedo’s room and call her that, just so he could say the word too. Second, if the Dag had told Toast about their conversation, did that mean the sisters talked about him at other times? Max wondered what Cheedo told them about him. He found he didn’t mind the idea of the four of them talking about him; he preferred the sisters know too much over Cheedo not being able to talk about their relationship. And he trusted Cheedo not to tell his private business, about Jessie and the Sprog.

Dazed, he thanked Toast and went to find Capable on the porch. She and Nux were poring over a cookbook. Capable had a notepad next to her, already full of writing. Their shoulders were together, but they looked up and separated a bit when Max knocked on the frame of the screen door to get their attention.

“Sorry to interrupt.”

“Max, hi! Come sit. What’s up? Come to ask me what I’m getting Cheedo for her birthday?” Max blushed and nodded, touching the back of his neck self-consciously. Nux chuckled and then silenced when Max shot him a look.

“Well, it’s kind of a present for you too, so I won’t tell. But I have a suggestion, if you’d like.”

“I’ll take anything.”

“You both like cars, and you’ve been doing so much work on yours. How close are you to finishing it?”

Max almost smacked his forehead at his cluelessness. How could he have not thought of something to do with cars? “Very close,” he said to answer Capable’s question and wondered what she had in mind.

“You should let her finish it, then take her for the first drive. She’ll never forget it.”

Max stared at her. “That’s perfect,” he said. Nux kissed Capable’s cheek as he glowed with pride. “Thank you. Better go before Cheedo notices I’m still here.” Capable waved, but her and Nux were already absorbed in each other by the time he shut the screen door.

“Capable’s good at gifts,” Toast said when she met him at the front door. Max nodded, distracted by thoughts of his car. Their car, he had been thinking of it as. “You’ll pick her up Friday?”

“No problem,” he said.

“There’s not a ton of people coming, but it starts around seven, yeah? Bring wine.”

**

Cheedo had one thought upon waking on the day of her birthday: 24. 24 years-worth of birthdays that she couldn’t remember, either because she was too young, or because nothing extraordinary had happened at all.

Truthfully, she was more anxious than excited about her 25th. She knew her sisters had planned a party and would do anything she asked to make the day special, and she would be grateful. But she tried not to let her expectations grow too much, because an average day would be better than a disappointing day.

She didn’t know how to do this. How were girls supposed to act on their birthdays? Was she too old to be excited? What should she wear, something nice, or something she was comfortable in? Her 24th birthday had been spent alone in her crummy studio apartment. She hadn’t gotten to the point of needing the soup kitchen—where Joe had found her—but she did nothing special, ate nothing special.  

Cheedo could hear music in the kitchen, and knew, no matter what happened, this would be a birthday she remembered.

 

Breakfast was extravagant. Capable must have been up for hours, or prepared so much the night before. There were pancakes and eggs and bacon and sausages and fruit salad and juices of all kinds, and her smiling sisters. The Dag came towards her with a flower crown, and suddenly she was adorned in birthday apparel: the crown, a sash, sunglasses shaped like birthday cakes. Normally Cheedo would have been embarrassed by the bright colors and attention, but she felt happy, and like her happiness was filling the whole room.

Her phone rang while they were eating.

“It’s Max,” she said and her sisters told her to answer it. Cheedo ducked away into the living room and sat amongst the Dag’s plants while they talked.

“Happy birthday,” he said in his rumbly voice. That voice was always there, constant, even on this momentous day. It felt good to Cheedo.

“Thank you.”

“Are your sisters making a fuss?”

“I’m wearing sunglasses shaped like birthday cakes.”

“So that’s a yes.”

“Yeah. We’re eating breakfast, I feel so special.”

“I’m glad.”

Cheedo shifted so she was facing away from the kitchen, as if her sisters could hear her over the music and their chatter. Feeling silly all of a sudden, she took the glasses off.

“Is this what birthdays are like?” she asked Max quietly.

“It’s the kind of birthday you should have been having, the kind you deserve. Do you not like it?”

“No, no, I like it,” she insisted. “I just don’t’ know if I can do a whole day of this.” She felt tired already, even though she’d just woken up.

“You don’t have to, Furiosa won’t make a big deal. It’ll be quiet with her, like usual.”

“Like usual. Yes. That sounds nice.” She hadn’t expected Furiosa to be that enthusiastic about her birthday, but she felt thankful for Max and his ability to state facts. It was simple, but nice to hear.

“Go back to breakfast,” he said after a bit of comfortable silence.

“Okay. I’ll see you at 4:30.”

“Looking forward to it, birthday girl.”

“Bye, Max,” Cheedo said, and hung up, then put her glasses back on.

**

Max watched Cheedo grow tenser as the party went on.

She’d been a bundle of happiness when he picked her up at Furiosa’s, wearing her usual crown braid, but this time with flowers woven throughout. The Dag’s work, no doubt. Her smile was a mile wide, and it had rubbed off on Furiosa. She hugged Cheedo before Max whisked her off to his house, where she would clean up and get ready for the party.

Max hadn’t been to a birthday party in many years, besides the occasional day when someone would bring a cake in to the station for one of his coworker’s birthdays. He didn’t think Cheedo’s party was going to be anything like that.

Of course, it wasn’t. It was loud and happy and boisterous. The usual crew was there: Cheedo’s sisters, Nux, and Furiosa. Valkyrie, Furiosa’s partner at the shop, came along, with some other women, who treated Furiosa like a sister and Cheedo like a daughter. Max wondered when she’d met them, and marveled at how comfortable she was with them.

He started to worry about keeping up with everything. It was a lot; the music and the wine and the dim lighting. He wanted to shrink away and sit somewhere quiet.

Cheedo noticed and took his hand, and didn’t let go for the rest of the night. That felt right, like he belonged.

It also meant he could feel her grip gradually tightening. Max kept an eye on her, wary, and looked for any sign that she needed to go, for whatever reason. She never stopped smiling though, and seemed to be having a good time.

They had to let go of each other’s hands when Capable demanded Cheedo open her presents. It felt like the night they’d gone dancing and were moving towards the bar for more drinks. Their hands had been together for so long, and he felt very alone as she moved away. He ended up on a couch, and she sat in front of him on the carpet with one arm wrapped around his calf and her cheek resting on his knee during idle moments. He wanted to touch the smooth skin on her neck and shoulders but there were a few too many people around for him to be so open with his touches.

She opened her presents one by one, loving each of them. The necklace from the Dag—Max made a note to ask Cheedo about dandelions—and Toast’s gift certificate for self-defense classes. Capable’s turned out to be a couples cooking class, for her and Max. He blushed, but loved the idea of learning with Cheedo.

She pressed her eyes to his leg suddenly, her breath hitching. His hands realized she was crying before his brain did, and were on her shoulders by the time her sisters started voicing concern.

“I’m alright,” she said after turning her face to look out. “This is just so much better than I ever imagined.” She wiped her eyes and picked up her gift from Furiosa. Max kept his hands on her shoulders.

“Most of it is at the shop, and it’s more a favor for me than a gift,” she explained as Cheedo opened the poster tube. She flattened the print on the carpet, and Max recognized the logo for Furiosa’s shop. “I’ve got the perfect piece of wood for a sign, and would love for you to burn it.”

Cheedo looked down at the logo, the thick border around the name of the shop, Fury Road Motors, in a font that was almost too cool. Max watched her smooth her hands over the words and could picture her bent over the sign with her little green burning tool, making something permanent.

“I would love to,” she whispered finally. She was crying openly now, not bothering to catch her tears.

Max’s gift was the last one. He knew it wasn’t going to seem as thoughtful as the rest—even Nux had surprised Cheedo with a set of leather journals. He was ready to explain what it was as Cheedo opened the box, but he could tell she knew.

She looked back at him. “It’s done?”

He nodded. She lifted the keys out of the box.

“His car is done,” she explained to her friends. “We finished it. When?”

“When you put on the new gas cap yesterday. That was the last thing.” Her fist closed around the keys and she stood suddenly.

“I’m sorry, I have to…I’ll just be a moment,” she said and rushed out of the room.

The guests sat silently until Toast spoke:

“It was too much, we overwhelmed her. We shouldn’t have done so much.”

“It’s her first real birthday, we had to do something,” Capable reasoned.

The Dag started picking up wrapping paper. “Someone should go talk to her, just to make sure she’s alright.”

Everyone looked to Max.

“No,” he said firmly. “You’ve all known her longer.”

“She probably wants to be left alone,” added Furiosa.

Cheedo’s sisters agreed and started cleaning up. Valkyrie and her group left shortly after. The music was changed to something soft and acoustic, and the lights were turned back up. Cheedo’s gifts were arranged in a pile, save for the keys to the Pursuit Special.

In a little while, Toast, the Dag, and Capable went to check on Cheedo, but came back immediately, looking panicked.

“She’s gone,” Capable said. Max’s pulse quickened and heat rushed to his face. He stood and Furiosa put a steadying hand on his shoulder. “Her window’s open, she must have climbed out.”

Furiosa stepped forward. “Okay, where would she have gone?”

“Joe’s grave is a short walk away. She’s been asking us to go,” Toast suggested. “Or your shop, Furiosa.”

“The car, my house,” Max grunted, positive she would be there. He pictured the keys disappearing into her clenched fist. It was a long walk, but taxis were always around, or the bus.

Toast slipped her jacket on. “Let’s split up. Capable, Nux, you go to the graveyard. Furiosa, take the Dag to your shop. Max and I will check his place. Call if we find anything?”

Everyone agreed and split into their teams. Max and Toast were the first ones out the door. The car was silent for almost the whole ride.

Toast glanced over at him when he pulled into his driveway. Max noted the closed garage door, then remembered she had a key, the one he’d had made that morning to add to the the car keys.

“What if we don’t find her?” she asked softly, in a voice very unlike her.

He fidgeted, uncomfortable with this vulnerable side of Toast, who was usually the least open with her emotions. “We will.”

“What if someone took her again?”

“No one took her. We can’t think like that.” He opened the car door, hoping Toast would just follow him, so he could find Cheedo. It didn’t help to imagine the worst case scenarios.


	8. Hold

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter?? It felt right, but I know I'm not done with this universe. I imagine i'll come up with shorter things, maybe about the others. Still very excited and happy to be back. Thank you to everyone who commented and left kudos and just read!
> 
> Also, clearly most of this chapter was inspired by those pictures from Details magazine of Tom Hardy with that dog. He is unreal.

Cheedo stood at the foot of Joe’s grave. It felt so fucking cliché, running away from her birthday party to visit the grave of the man who’d kidnapped and raped her for 5 months. She didn’t know why she’d gone there, other than it being a place to go. The party had been perfect, like she knew it would be, but the gifts had been too much. It had been almost two months since they’d been rescued, and already these people knew her well enough to give her the most amazing gifts. She’d never had anybody; how did she have all these wonderful, amazing, magnificent people now?

Why had she come here? This man, this monster who had hurt her and her sisters, didn’t deserve her presence on her birthday. She ripped the flower crown out of her hair, tugging the braid roughly and dropping the flowers onto the grave. It had taken the Dag so long to do and she immediately felt guilty for destroying it. But then, she looked at Joe’s name and was mad. He was dead—Max, her Max, had shot him—and she was still letting him ruin her day. She hated him with everything in her.

Cheedo felt the keys in her hand; she noticed there was a garage key on the ring too. She snatched the flowers off of Joe’s grave and walked away, dropping them in the path as she made her way back to the road.

She took a cab and let herself in the garage. The car was more beautiful than she remembered it. She walked a tight circle around it, keeping her hand on the smooth metal, before sitting in the driver’s seat.

Cheedo didn’t know how to drive. She’d never even sat behind the wheel of a car. No one had ever offered to teach her, and she could never have afforded a car or insurance. Now she’d helped fix this one. She knew so much about cars, except for how to drive. Driving was communication. Using your body to tell a car what to do. How could she understand cars without it?

She didn’t know where to put her hands, so she slid over to the passenger side and curled up. This was what she remembered about birthdays: being alone.

Then Max opened the door and just sat next to her. He didn’t say anything or try to touch her, and Cheedo felt how much he cared for her in the way he held himself.

**

The side garage door was already unlocked when Max tried the knob. He took his first deep breath since Cheedo had disappeared and looked at Toast. She put her hand on her forehead in relief and leaned against the side of the garage, and waved him in.

It was dark in the garage, but Max could see the figure crouched in the passenger seat of the Pursuit Special. He opened the door quietly and sat next to her, didn’t say anything.

Cheedo didn’t even look at him at first, and he struggled not to reach out to her. Then, in one quick movement, she was straddling his lap and latched onto his torso, with her head bent to his chest. He held her and they were still.

“I don’t know how to drive,” she murmured eventually.

“I’ll teach you.”

“I missed out on so many things, so many birthdays, so much learning.”

“You have plenty of time to catch up, and people who will help you.”

“I hate Joe, more than anything, but I don’t hate my life now. I love it.”

“I bet he would hate that, so keep loving it. Keep living in spite of him.” Cheedo finally looked at him. He could see how wet her eyes were even in the dark. “Why did you run away?”

“You guys know me so well, after so little time. I just can’t believe it.”

“Your sisters were scared.”

“I’m sorry. Are they out looking for me?”

“Toast is with me, outside.”

“You knew I would be here.”

“Mhm.”

Cheedo kissed his jaw and ran her fingers through his hair and Max felt the stress of missing her float off of him.

“In all my daydreams, all of my childhood, I never could have imagined you,” she said.

Her weight felt solid in his lap, and her words came so easily from her lips.

Max wanted to say something back, about how he was so glad he was the one to shoot Joe, how he was thankful for MFP’s and his coworkers for asking him out that night, and how he couldn’t believe he had gotten this lucky. But he was no good at talking, and Cheedo knew that.

He touched her back through that pretty white dress she’d worn on their first date. It had ridden up on her thighs but he didn’t touch her. This was comfort.

Cheedo pressed her forehead to his. She was so much taller than him like this and he had to look up to meet her.

“Happy Birthday,” he murmured.

“Will you take me home?” she asked. He nodded.

**

After her birthday, Cheedo found herself talking a lot more than she used to.

She talked to Max about how big her feelings for him were.

She talked to Furiosa about her childhood.

And, most importantly, she talked to her sisters about everything.

She balanced her time between home, Furiosa’s shop, and Max’s, making it a point to cook with Capable and plant with the Dag, and even finally let Toast take her to the shooting range. She surprised herself; she wasn’t horrible, and didn’t hate how a gun felt in her hands. If anything, it made her feel closer to Max.

Furiosa offered her a job, telling her she’d learned enough to start doing real work.

Cheedo felt like she’d been reborn. Her life before Joe was fading and she often had to remind herself that it hadn’t always been this way. She had never been this happy.

On her first official day of work at Furiosa’s, a dog showed up in the back lot where the big rigs were kept. She was skinny, but friendly and kind, a mutt of too many different kinds to pin one down. Furiosa had gone out and come back with the dog on her heels and looking at them both expectantly.

“What do we do with her?” Cheedo asked.

“I don’t know. There’s a shelter not too far from here.” Cheedo kneeled and let the dog sniff her hands eagerly, then sat so she could be pet.

She thought about the previous day when she and Max had gone for a picnic. They went to the park by his house and brought too much food and smiled constantly. A golden retriever had gotten loose from its owner and trotted over to them, leash dragging. Cheedo snatched up the sandwiches while Max met the dog. With the leash looped securely around one wrist, Max let the dog lick his face and push him to the ground.

Cheedo watched them wrestle. Max was grinning and murmuring into the dog’s fur and this seemed like the most free and joyful he had ever looked outside of their homes.

“You like dogs?” she asked.

“Love them. Look at her, she means no harm, she just wants to be friends.” The dog, apparently a girl, took an interest in Cheedo then and sat in front of her expectantly. She buried her hands in the thick fur on her back and scratched.

“I like them too. There were always dogs in the cities I grew up in, either at foster homes or the streets outside of shelters.”

“I had one for a bit after I lost Jess, she was just passing through really. Died shortly after. I never even named her.”

The dog rolled over so both Max and Cheedo could rub her belly. “Why don’t you get another one? You have the perfect yard—fenced in and everything.”

Max contemplated it. “I don’t know. Never thought about it.”

The dog’s owner ran up, a young guy in running clothes. “I’m so sorry,” he was saying as Max scratched the dog’s ears and her head flopped down in ecstasy. “She just got away from me.”

“It’s alright, she’s a delight,” Max said and handed over the leash. “What’s her name?”

“Riley.”

Max held Riley’s ears and kissed her nose. “Well, Riley, it was nice to meet you. Have a good run.”

Waving and thanking them over and over, the guy ran off with Riley leading him, excited to be running again. Max watched them go and Cheedo couldn’t help but smile at his smile.

Now, with this grimy dog in front of her, Cheedo knew she wasn’t going to a shelter.

“We should give her to Max,” she suggested.

Furiosa agreed immediately. “I have no clue why he doesn’t already have one, or ten.”

“We saw one in the park yesterday and I think he fell in love with her in just those few minutes.”

“He understands dogs. He loves them easily.”

The dog hung around Furiosa and Cheedo until they were done working. She didn’t bark or whine, just sat at their feet or sniffed at their ankles when they stuck out from under a vehicle.

She heard Max pull up and met him at the door. Cheedo hung back to see his reaction.

Surprise, and then joy.  

He sat quickly and let the dog squeeze into his lap, where she rested her chin on his knee. She was content.

“Who’s this?” he asked Cheedo.

“She just showed up today, out back. Do you want her?”

Max looked down at the dog, then back up at Cheedo. “Yes.”

**

“What should we name her?” Cheedo asked as the dog ran around Max’s yard, throwing water drops everywhere. Her light fur, now clean and tangle-free, was drying in waves.

They’d given her a bath with the hose and a bottle of shampoo from the grocery store in between Max’s house and the shop. Cheedo had run in while Max drove in laps around the parking lot, air conditioning blasting.

Max was soaking wet, and so was Cheedo. She was a good dog and sat nicely while they washed her and tugged the knots out of her fur, but it was a hot day and Cheedo had gotten enthusiastic with the hose.

He watched the dog sprint around his yard, pausing for attention every few laps.

“I don’t know,” he said. “Something happy.”

“She is a happy dog, for sure. Cheery?” Cheedo suggested.

“Too cute.”

“Jolly.”

“Are you just going to suggest synonyms of happy?”

“Maybe. We don’t know much about her yet.”

“She is happy,” Max said as the dog rolled on the ground in front of them. “Full of joy.”

“Joy. That’s it.” Cheedo held the dog’s floppy golden ears. “Joy?”

She licked Cheedo’s forearm.

Max watched them, and he was overcome with a familiar feeling.

“Joy.”

**

Cheedo liked sleepy morning Max. He was so grumbly, like when they’d first met and he barely spoke full sentences. The morning after Joy arrived, she woke up with Max on her stomach and Joy on her feet.

She was used to this with Max. He tended to move around in his sleep, ending up on her chest or folded away, perpendicular to her. It was almost too early for them to be awake on a Sunday, but this was not the most comfortable position she’d ever woken up in.

Running her fingers up the back of his neck, Cheedo murmured Max’s name. Joy woke before he did and looked up at her with big eyes. Max breathed in deep and stretched before rolling to look at her, already smiling.

She patted the bed next to her. Max kissed her forehead before settling next to her.

“Morn,” he said.

Joy squeezed between them and rested her head on the spot where their hips met. “Oh, good morning to you, too,” said Cheedo and scratched Joy’s nose. Max scratched her ears and kissed the top of her fuzzy head, before nuzzling back into Cheedo’s shoulder. “We should have a welcome home party for her in a few days, when she’s settled in.”

“Mmm,” Max rumbled into her neck. Joy barked softly.

“Are you hungry?” Cheedo slid out from under Max, who burrowed into her pillow, and Joy followed her into the kitchen. She poured some food into the new bowl she had bought the day before and watched the dog eat for a second before crawling back into bed with Max.

He held her tightly, as if he hadn’t seen her in years.

“Are you alright?” she asked, concerned by his urgency.

“Happy.”

“Well, I’m not going anywhere,” she assured and held his face to hers, kissing him chastely. His eyes were only half open when she pulled back to look at him, and he looked so cute, with his scruff and always pouty lips that she had to kiss him again.

**

Suddenly, early on that Sunday morning, in bed with Cheedo, Max was sure of something. He held her cheeks and kissed everywhere he could; her forehead, her nose, her chin, her throat, her shoulders.

“Max, honestly, is something wrong? You’re acting strange.”

He kissed the tiny hollow in between her collarbones.

“Love you,” he grumbled. Looked right at her. “I love you.”

“Oh, Max, I love you, too,” she said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. They kissed again.

Max wanted her close to him, as close as possible. He pulled Cheedo into his lap and held her with his strong hands on her back. That thought—I love you—was bursting out of him and he wanted to say it over and over again, wanted to print it on a banner and hang it over Cheedo’s head so everyone would know _he loved her._

Max tried to shake off the feeling of sleepiness. He kissed her hard as she grasped his shoulders, inching her hips closer to his. They met, and she gasped into his mouth at the feel of him, hard, pressing against her.

They had been careful to move slow. Max had always been aware of where his body was in relation to Cheedo’s, and never moved without her permission. But she had moved to him.

She didn’t shrink away. Cheedo, this wonderful woman, the first person he had loved since Jessie.

And yet he loved Cheedo in a different way. He could never love someone like he’d loved Jess. He was not that man anymore. He loved with his experiences: losing his family, losing some mobility because of his knee, being alone for so long.

This, here, now. Cheedo in his lap, not pulling away from him.

He wanted her. Every inch of her that she hadn’t been able to share just yet.

“I want you,” he mumbled. “I love you.”

“Max, I want to. Yes.”

She pulled her shirt over her head and pressed back to him. He felt like there was something holding them together, wrapping around them. He didn’t want any space between their bodies.

Cheedo ran her hand down his chest, through the hair, down to the waistband of his briefs, and rested her hand on his cock. They both whined.

“Okay?” Max asked. Cheedo nodded. “Any time you want to stop. Any time. Say the word.” She nodded emphatically.

“I trust you.”

She raised up to slide her underwear down her thighs. Max held her steady while she slipped one foot out, then let the fabric fall to her other knee. She settled back down on his lap.

“Is your leg okay?”

“Mhm.”

“Do you have a condom?”

Max opened the drawer on his bedside table and tore one from a strip.

“Do you want me to?” he asked. She nodded, and watched as he pulled himself out of the slit in his underwear and slid the condom on.

She didn’t hesitate, just held his hand steady and sunk down.

Max’s heart jumped.

She was all he could feel. Her skin on his, her cunt tight around him.

She asked this time. “Okay?”

“Yes, yes, yes,” he said and kissed her. She moved up, then back down, still again.

“Oh,” she breathed. “Oh, I’d forgotten…” She trailed off. Max understood.

“It’s alright, you’re in control.” He held her hips as she moved, helping.

She was making these tiny noises in her throat, little squeaks, and he kissed her there, feeling each one on his lips.

It was slow. They were together.

Max came after Cheedo had been resting with him fully inside of her, catching her breath. She raked her nails down his chest and rose up, almost slipping off of his cock, then swallowed him in the wet heat between her thighs.

He muffled his groan on her shoulder and she wrapped her arms around his neck, holding him close. Their chests heaved.  

Max let himself stay close to her for a bit before lifting Cheedo and laying her on her back. He stripped off the condom and threw it in the direction of the trash can, not caring if it went in because she was right there, naked, flushed, sweaty, and he wanted to stare at her for the next few hours.

“Can I?” he asked before moving his hand up her thigh.

“You don’t have to, I’m kind of overwhelmed, I don’t think I’d be able to…”

She was talking fast, still breathing heavily. There was sweat along her hairline, making a few strands stick. Max pushed them back and leaned on his elbow next to her.

“Are you alright? Did I scare you?”

“No! No, Max. That just hasn’t felt…good…in a long while. You did enough. You are enough.” Cheedo kissed him before finding her shirt at the bottom of the bed and putting it on. She looked comfier, more secure. “Would you just lay with me?”

 Max obliged.

**

When Joe had first taken Cheedo, she had been dating a guy. His name was Nick, and he was very normal, but very cute. They’d had sex a few times before she was kidnapped. It had been safe sex, not really that fun or exciting, but Cheedo didn’t have much room in her life for excitement. Nick was kind and treated her well.

Then, with Joe, everything turned dark and messy. Sex—no, rape, what he did was rape—was a weapon; a way for Joe to prove his power over Cheedo and her sisters. She dreaded it every day, never knowing when it would be her turn, hoping she wouldn’t be picked and then feeling guilty for wishing it upon one of the others.

She couldn’t remember what it had been like with Nick. She knew she wasn’t scared and he didn’t hurt her, but everything was a blur.

Everything she thought about sex was a black hole.

Until Max, who’s strong shoulders and grumbling words shined a light on the things Joe did, scaring them away, and creating new memories.

In bed with him after they’d done it, had sex for the first time, Cheedo forced herself not to clutch Max, and never let him go.

She felt safe. She’d put her shirt back on, but felt okay about it. Max had put the condom on, but that was okay too. She didn’t have to do everything all at once.

She’d forgotten, she’d said to Max. She’d forgotten that sex felt good. Of course she knew it was supposed to, but Joe was always there in the back of her mind, with the pain he brought.

Max brought her only happiness. With his small smile and kind eyes, tough hands and rare laugh. She loved him like she’d never loved anyone. It felt too big to hold in just her body, but she supposed she had Max to help.

He was there, to help her when things got too heavy, and to be with her when things were good. This was her life now. She had all of these people who loved her. And she loved them.


End file.
